tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327465392659654562024-03-13T20:13:23.299-07:00Chronicles of the Evil OneLife from a Perspective of WickednessMinerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-75433424590074914282013-11-25T13:37:00.000-08:002013-11-25T13:37:08.891-08:00I'd Much Rather Be Terrible Than PrettyToday has been a difficult day for me. Difficult, but ultimately satisfying.<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth, my human, was wretched as usual and called me "an embarrassment." To my face. In front of total strangers.<br />
<br />
I bit her finger for that. Not hard. Just enough to let her know that she was Very Bad.<br />
<br />
You see, today was the day of the Annual Horror, aka my Visit to the Vet. Now I have explained things to Anne Elisabeth many times over. I have explained that I am Supreme Ruler and Dictator of All I Survey. Supreme Rulers and Dictators of All They Survey do not visit the vet. Supreme Rules and Dictators of All They Survey do not permit lights to be shined into their eyes, nor strange cold apparatuses to be pressed to their breasts, and they certainly <em>do not</em> allow <em>things </em>to be placed in <em>certain places</em>.<br />
<br />
It's not cool.<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth ignored me of course. She also ignored my ongoing insistence that if, indeed, this annual sojourn must be made, I will <em>not</em> submit to the<em> </em>indignity of carrier cage. Carrier cages are for cats, dogs, ferrets, hamsters, hedgepigs, and whatever other domesticated creatures are willing to suffer such an undignified mode of transportation. Carrier cages are not an acceptable mode of transportation for Supreme Rulers and Dictators of All They Survey.<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth: "I don't have time for your fussiness, Minerva. In you go!"<br />
<br />
And she popped me into the carrier. With THIS ONE.<br />
<br />
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<br />
I do not believe I have properly introduced This One to you, my dear readers. Wretched Ann Elisabeth has not given me sufficient time for blogging this last year, and so many important events have come and gone un-chronicled (Do you see how little she cares for all of you and the importance of keeping you abreast of my doings?).<br />
<br />
Anyway, This One appeared in my domain unannounced one day last spring. Unannounced, unwelcome, and completely uncool. Look at him? He lies about with his belly exposed! Anything could happen to a belly exposed! One doesn't expose one's belly unless one is performing a sacred Feline Dance or flirting with Rohan-muffin (my sweet angel-face-pookums may pet my belly if he likes. Everyone else will die).<br />
<br />
But This One--this Makoose as he calls himself--will let <em>anyone</em> pet his belly. He begs them to do it. He even begs <em>the dog</em> to do it.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So Uncool.</td></tr>
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So Anne Elisabeth sticks me into a carrier with Mister Uncool and carts to the vet like some <em>animal</em>.<br />
<br />
There was nothing I could do but sing my saddest songs all the way there. But even these were not enough to touch Anne Elisabeth's stony heart.<br />
<br />
Me: "WOE! WOE! WOOOOOOOE!"<br />
<br />Anne Elisabeth: "Minerva, you sound like you're dying! For pity's sake, have done."<br />
<br />
Me: "Makoose is sitting on my <em>taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaail!</em>"<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabaeth: "Well, scoot over and give him some room."<br />
<br />
Makoose: "I don't mind! It's cozy in here! Are we going to the vet? Please? Please, <em>pulleeese?</em>"<br />
<br />
That was possibly the worst aspect of the whole trip. The way Mister Uncool seemed to enjoy the whole affair. Seriously, he sprang out of the carrier onto the examining table and immediately began making eyes at all the nurses, strutting and flicking his tail and purring as though he were somehow blessing them all with his very presence. And them all cooing and calling him cute.<br />
<br />
Disgusting.<br />
<br />
I hissed at the first one who looked at me.<br />
<br />
It was all downhill from there. They took Makoose in the back first to weigh him and do all his checkup. But when they came for me, Anne Elisabeth had to stick her oar in.<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth: "You probably don't want to take her back there alone. She . . . gets a little fractious."<br />
<br />
The new young vet checked her charts. Her eyes widened behind her glasses.<br />
<br />
New Young Vet: "Oh. Is this . . . <em>Minerva?</em>"<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth: "I'm afraid so."<br />
<br />
And thus Anne Elisabeth withdrew me from beneath the bench where I had ensconced myself, intending to fend off all assailants. I wapped at her hand, but Anne Elisabeth was too dense to pay any heed to this gentle warning and hauled me out onto examining table (which Makoose had just vacated. He was now rolling on the floor, <em>exposing his belly</em> to vet assistants so they'd rub him. The show-off.)<br />
<br />
Purgatory On Earth began.<br />
<br />
First they tried to draw my blood.<br />
<br />
Fail.<br />
<br />
Then they tried to check my eyes.<br />
<br />
Double fail.<br />
<br />
Young Vet: "I don't want her to bite you!"<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth: "Oh, she won't bite me."<br />
<br />
I bit her. Not enough to break the skin. Just enough to show her what's what.<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth: "MINERVA Louise! You're embarrassing me!"<br />
<br />
Then they tried to check my ears.<br />
<br />
No one tries to check my ears a second time.<br />
<br />
Last of all was . . . the <em>thing</em> that goes in the <em>place</em>. And that, my dear readers, was not about to happen.<br />
<br />
At the end of an ordeal that was much more dreadful for any of them that it was for yours truly, the vet handed Anne Elisabeth a tube of dewormer, threw up her hands and said, "I'm so sorry! You'll have to give her this at home. When you bring her in for a teeth cleaning we'll put her under, and we can try all of this again then."<br />
<br />
Foiled again, Vet of Darkness. You will never master me!<br />
<br />
So, triumphant, I returned to the carrier and curled up in a fluffy ball of satisfaction. This satisfaction was somewhat ruffled when Makoose--after being pried from the arms of an adoring nurse--was shoved in on top of me.<br />
<br />
Makoose: "I love the vet! All of them say I am <em>sooooo</em> pretty! And I am. I am <em>sooooo</em> pretty!"<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth: "You may be pretty, Makoose. But Minerva is <em>terrible</em>."<br />
<br />
I am. I am great, and I am terrible<br />
<br />
I'd much rather be terrible than pretty.Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-71560742832003460852013-01-16T16:45:00.001-08:002013-01-16T17:02:23.816-08:00Princess PantsI will no longer be responding to the name "Minerva Louise." No, if you want to get my attention, you will have to call me "Princess Pants" from now on.<br />
<br />
My angelic ray of moonlit glow (some people call him Rohan) declared me his "Princess Pants" tonight when he was feeding me. Wasn't that just <em>too</em> beguiling of him?<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth, being wretched, tries to tell me that he said it in an exasperated tone. "You were being a stubborn princess, and he was frustrated, Minerva. That's all that was."<br />
<br />
She reeks with jealousy. Rohan never calls <em>her</em> Princess Pants.<br />
<br />
Besides, I'm not stubborn. I'm firm. I am in the process of training my humans into a new eating routine, and humans, as everyone knows, are one of the hardest animals in the world to <em>train</em> to do<em> anything.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
But my humans (Well, I say "my humans," but I really mean "Anne Elisabeth." My snoogle-bug of winsomeness is so sweet-tempered he just does what she tells him to. Someday, I will get her back for how she brow-beats that man!) have been insisting for the last two and a half months on feeding somewhere I Do Not Wish To Eat. They have been feeding me with the <em>foster cats.</em><br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth (being wretched) insists that this is due to the Kitty Politics currently rampant at Rooglewood. Some kitties, she claims, are more dominant and greedy than other kitties, and she has to separate them out into different feeding stations so that she knows everyone is getting his or her fair share. Thus my Minion eats on the piano, Magrat underneath it, Marmaduke on top of the entertainment center, and yours truly <em>gets shut in the guestroom with the three foster kittens!</em><br />
<br />
Can you see a problem here?<br />
<br />
Let me break it down for you. Where "Kitty Politics" are concerned, there is only one hierarchy here at Rooglewood. I rule:<br />
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(Cue Powerful Angel Music: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH)</div>
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And they . . . do their thing.<br />
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(Cue blurping trombone music: Whaap, whaap, whaaaaap . . .)</div>
<br />
So you see how this sort of segregation couldn't be stood for. If there was going to be any separating of the eating stations, I was bound and determined that <em>mine</em> should be the eating station of choice. NOT the one shared with the lowly fosters.<br />
<br />
Thus I began an intense training routine. It takes a kitty of rare grit and a willingness to get tough with the humans in question, particularly if you have one as bullheaded as Anne Elisabeth.<br />
<br />
I began Project: Train By Starvation.<br />
<br />
It's a simple enough procedure, but don't let its simplicity fool you. You have to be in it for the long haul if you expect it to work. You have to be willing, after maybe two bites of both breakfast and dinner, to completely turn up your nose to your food bowl and go sit in a fluffy huff off in a corner somewhere, watching through half-closed lids as those scavenging foster kittens finish off your meals. Every day. For weeks.<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth, being dense, insisted that when I got hungry enough I would cave and start eating my share.<br />
<br />
My angel face of love, however, said, "O! Most wretched Anne Elisabeth! How can you say such a thing? Clearly, my beloved and adored sweetness pie kitty pumpkin is far too delicate a creature to eat a full meal all in one fell swoop! She wishes to take her time, to savor her meal, to enjoy it over hours of sweet culinary pleasure."<br />
<br />
Anne Elisabeth: "She eats the same blasted thing <em>every single day. </em>What is there to enjoy?"<br />
<br />
But, when my already trim little hips grew ever-trimmer, my beloved insisted that Anne Elisabeth rearrange the eating stations yet again.<br />
<br />
And I got The Spot Of Choice! <em>I</em> get to eat in the the Author Study now! Right up on Anne Elisabeth's desk, next to her computer! Every morning, Anne Elisabeth feeds all the other kitties, saving me for last of all (because I'm special like that). Then she <em>carries</em> me into the Author Study (because you can't expect this great beauty to walk there on her own, can you?), places me before my bowl and feeds me. She then prepares her morning hot drink and shut us in the Study, just the two of us! And we spend all morning, just being Us Girls together, and I take my sweet time over my food, and the other animals paw at the door, and <em>they</em> aren't allowed in because <em>they</em> aren't the Special Kitty like I am!<br />
<br />
And <em>they</em> weren't willing to go the distance of starvation to get The Spot Of Choice. So lick my whiskers, losers!<br />
<br />
Of course, you have to continue a routine of firmness in order to maintain your position in a dictatorship such as mine. This week, for instance, Anne Elisabeth has been particularly slovenly about her duties. She keeps claiming she "doesn't feel well," that she "has the flu" or some such nonsense, and somehow thinks this is an excuse to sleep in and not feed the kitties on the regular schedule.<br />
<br />
I've put a stop to that! Yesterday, when she "wasn't feeling well," and tried to sleep in, I knocked her crystal cookie jar off the counter and <em>shattered</em> it. That brought her running quick enough! And when she'd finished sweeping up the shards, who do you think got fed in The Spot Of Choice as per usual?<br />
<br />
That's right.<br />
<br />
Princess Pants rules this household.Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-60324240970681824792012-11-26T09:40:00.000-08:002012-11-26T09:41:50.620-08:00Pedestals, Grooming Stations, and SuchlikeThey say it is dangerous to live up on a pedestal. When exalted to lofty heights, there is nothing left but to fall.<br />
<br />
To this I say, "<em>Phooey!</em>"<br />
<br />
<br />
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Some of us were <em>born</em> for the pedestal.</div>
<br />
There have been doings in Rooglewood of late. Doings of great interest which I shall herewith report. First of all, the recent arrival of the New Napping Spot of Choice.<br />
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<br />
Anne Elisabeth is under the feeble delusion that Rohan bought this comfy new cat-bed for <em>her. </em>She claims she's going to put it in her new Author's Study and will sit upon it while she writes her little stories.<br />
<br />
Ha!<br />
<br />
As clearly shown above, this couch of repose is meant for feline repose and none other.<br />
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<br />
It also serves admirably for a grooming station, as seen above. Plenty of room for you and a friend (or a gremlin, in this case) to enjoy all the luxuries of a good evening groom!<br />
<br />
And Marmaduke seems to think it a perfect new spot to display his so-called "beauty."<br />
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Because he <em>has</em> to make it all about him.</div>
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It's all too easy to upstage him with fluffiness!</div>
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Anyway, as you can see in the images above, one of Anne Elisabeth's "charity cases" has been hanging around much longer than usual. The little black Gremlin is nearly full grown, and still hasn't managed to find a permanent home! I'm starting to get used to seeing it around, though. We even groom together upon occasion.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5qVV1ceE_EoUsyndX12W9lZjXKSV6x5g7Jxqb1FG54pLyGlfLh6we20HMCoJKvsJZ8X7YtLxzO380-tMbY57J_yJk3mbbMbtJ88ObKn5LGvZqCHZnoapaxlGvUgEi-inTz8qirqWyRqU/s1600/DSC_0138+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5qVV1ceE_EoUsyndX12W9lZjXKSV6x5g7Jxqb1FG54pLyGlfLh6we20HMCoJKvsJZ8X7YtLxzO380-tMbY57J_yJk3mbbMbtJ88ObKn5LGvZqCHZnoapaxlGvUgEi-inTz8qirqWyRqU/s400/DSC_0138+(2).JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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"Hey, Gremlin? You missed a spot!"</div>
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"Oh, thank you, Exalted One!"</div>
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Because that's what it calls me. Seriously.</div>
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Anne Elisabeth, being wretched, thinks this particular creature is a funny-looking and calls it her "vampire kitty." I think this is a bit harsh!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2JJDh24elpTT4Z-VbgYpyVtIP4-w3hlHcToppFJ0FeFZpI-fisZTcTDxK2TNngs575kLASucJdP6KFpktgmH4nyMhTZY-VZiBVWKAL81X6bFd1MRm0-I5kaHokaE79268v49jM7yxfk/s1600/IMG_7850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2JJDh24elpTT4Z-VbgYpyVtIP4-w3hlHcToppFJ0FeFZpI-fisZTcTDxK2TNngs575kLASucJdP6KFpktgmH4nyMhTZY-VZiBVWKAL81X6bFd1MRm0-I5kaHokaE79268v49jM7yxfk/s400/IMG_7850.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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But it's definitely a Gremlin. No two ways about it.</div>
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My Minion can't stand it. He thinks it's a dreadful beast sent to Rooglewood for the sole purpose of annoying him. The Gremlin, however, thinks my Minion is AWESOME and constantly tries to cuddle.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSKawxOeK04WajMG0b9kzhrQshj36qS2JtLoB10V_X61YrZo6Q9nVok3WdDRXc0B-rGVO2uUbmYv7ft7dAGjJ_7v2vVb_yi8r8iCi1ybuUxmPS7mYd3fHwMGlorTx7oJj5R9C9edAX7w/s1600/IMG_7853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSKawxOeK04WajMG0b9kzhrQshj36qS2JtLoB10V_X61YrZo6Q9nVok3WdDRXc0B-rGVO2uUbmYv7ft7dAGjJ_7v2vVb_yi8r8iCi1ybuUxmPS7mYd3fHwMGlorTx7oJj5R9C9edAX7w/s320/IMG_7853.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Gremlin: "I love Uncle Monster!"</div>
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Minion: "Ugh. What is this horror to which I wake?"</div>
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But my Minion isn't very consistent. While most of the time he insists that he <em>hates</em> the Gremlin, sometimes I catch them in this attitude!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho51KSC8CPLaN8E7wp9lK0eKDjYW-9aBwscEK_wNYWzHtyEuk9Cw4ZHVtNRvSLZX7ixYPglFQtNOQYI8QutbQkCRo-bHeRvk_YJoSbJGR-P2t4iV26kOKsUtpSYXOF1muAPU8Wc7Vl9zQ/s1600/IMG_7863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho51KSC8CPLaN8E7wp9lK0eKDjYW-9aBwscEK_wNYWzHtyEuk9Cw4ZHVtNRvSLZX7ixYPglFQtNOQYI8QutbQkCRo-bHeRvk_YJoSbJGR-P2t4iV26kOKsUtpSYXOF1muAPU8Wc7Vl9zQ/s400/IMG_7863.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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"Kissy! Kissy! Love! Love!"</div>
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"But Minerva," says my Minion, "Midnight is a <em>different </em>kitty! There are <em>two</em> black kitties in the house, you know? I love Midnight, and I hate the Gremlin. It's simple!"</div>
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Huh?</div>
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What on earth is he talking about? There can't possibly be <em>two</em> gremlins in Rooglewood. It doesn't make sense!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOSQqch0T408klvorI1BjTKT96gXcNaFJmCwnPN72Bh_uK8AZgBKlGsMpvK8bECsvMsyTOA2YqC4GAfgyBwW0BNDm_qckjk2ifD-iR_KjL0EjRcb_XYEcZsMWM1kPt2o1MNr21W5Jqv9Y/s1600/Midnight.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOSQqch0T408klvorI1BjTKT96gXcNaFJmCwnPN72Bh_uK8AZgBKlGsMpvK8bECsvMsyTOA2YqC4GAfgyBwW0BNDm_qckjk2ifD-iR_KjL0EjRcb_XYEcZsMWM1kPt2o1MNr21W5Jqv9Y/s320/Midnight.JPG" width="318" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpevjTvAcUpNEXDYKnvu94viN5kn1XAnpp-b9t_2tay6WiAJMwSKpMiBrd1yp9xArSu3j0JpDT_rsFEL_QJ8b2SvYT0Ni93Q5CumKPEy8gP2LsrnAzfWKOyygYqtTHxuICrm179rGb6A/s1600/IMG_7867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpevjTvAcUpNEXDYKnvu94viN5kn1XAnpp-b9t_2tay6WiAJMwSKpMiBrd1yp9xArSu3j0JpDT_rsFEL_QJ8b2SvYT0Ni93Q5CumKPEy8gP2LsrnAzfWKOyygYqtTHxuICrm179rGb6A/s320/IMG_7867.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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That's got to be the same cat? Right?</div>
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Yeah, the Minion's lost it. That's all there is to it. He's seeing double. Or something.</div>
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However it is, we <em>have</em> had a steady stream of Anne Elisabeth's wretched charity cases coming through Rooglewood. For a month or so there, we had Gray Kitten:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSwTwFoX7PhY7axslDio1M40E5FF0DjgoWGse2_HlUK902tP8PoKU1lDfadpM0wQ6t_a2GxeOhafk4OyC8WSqnyi7gXvHXzw5cOTZSkjNoAX2Lvokx4VIZSOv1XZv3kAa04OoD2Jekec/s1600/DSC_0120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSwTwFoX7PhY7axslDio1M40E5FF0DjgoWGse2_HlUK902tP8PoKU1lDfadpM0wQ6t_a2GxeOhafk4OyC8WSqnyi7gXvHXzw5cOTZSkjNoAX2Lvokx4VIZSOv1XZv3kAa04OoD2Jekec/s320/DSC_0120.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
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As seen here with the Gremlin.</div>
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And no sooner were we rid of him then Anne Elisabeth took in his sibling, Gray Kitten 2.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7SFPO_648MoLxp8t-VUVJ2tzq3fhZrDg64sXL_-jPYK8SfLl8aSHiYepZMXv6vj64WQNEd59kagXKwHU-UKbIF-qEOn5bcX_7oeVw2YfZX2hcbQngtwwlpS4rUpH_oddri8bLgBCGWbk/s1600/DSC_0142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7SFPO_648MoLxp8t-VUVJ2tzq3fhZrDg64sXL_-jPYK8SfLl8aSHiYepZMXv6vj64WQNEd59kagXKwHU-UKbIF-qEOn5bcX_7oeVw2YfZX2hcbQngtwwlpS4rUpH_oddri8bLgBCGWbk/s320/DSC_0142.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
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Cute. Sure. But is it <em>fluffy?</em></div>
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There's just no end of them! Seriously, folks, do you know <em>anyone</em> who can take some of these fur-beasts off my paws? They distract from my majesty!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHpWiOWhMekOAw2G_dOAmG7cNM3mj5Lktyc0pIVGhkDhHzHMMDVm6dzJFRJsKE6UlsgJAYyGAOzL_9gMeO0BIh6_547Zeb6t2u2kdimtRKLg5nZiaYanBO7VmH57dinCc-I9n5OBbkPdY/s1600/DSC_0147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHpWiOWhMekOAw2G_dOAmG7cNM3mj5Lktyc0pIVGhkDhHzHMMDVm6dzJFRJsKE6UlsgJAYyGAOzL_9gMeO0BIh6_547Zeb6t2u2kdimtRKLg5nZiaYanBO7VmH57dinCc-I9n5OBbkPdY/s400/DSC_0147.JPG" width="250" /></a></div>
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Heh. As if <em>that</em> were possible!</div>
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Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-56887612785825201682012-09-04T12:46:00.001-07:002012-09-04T13:43:53.747-07:00Of Bribes and Beasties<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR8u5wKzSXGWOV1qfoR1o4dhPib46EhwBXrY7q4wj07Dspff_IzGVu39-BggaEzON-BDuPacZcve8rHV_HIlRuQ2HC3jawIeqwaRahkqa3511OgFqdSNUBwHCgJIJRuvNt2fLHI9NN6p4/s1600/IMG_7668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR8u5wKzSXGWOV1qfoR1o4dhPib46EhwBXrY7q4wj07Dspff_IzGVu39-BggaEzON-BDuPacZcve8rHV_HIlRuQ2HC3jawIeqwaRahkqa3511OgFqdSNUBwHCgJIJRuvNt2fLHI9NN6p4/s400/IMG_7668.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>How can one measure majesty upon a scale?</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-kqIQp1dhJJP7lovTjZHLNiYVmSlruPXgyk6ZlPz9govFSV0NMDiHk6n3uiCWe8UNU19guBgC2IDAVmvuWGATIT1IgCtksiGFUPpzX2ojX_kNcz5o_SsHEWqVW5ESYLBISHpuqNkNEA/s1600/IMG_7667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="363" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-kqIQp1dhJJP7lovTjZHLNiYVmSlruPXgyk6ZlPz9govFSV0NMDiHk6n3uiCWe8UNU19guBgC2IDAVmvuWGATIT1IgCtksiGFUPpzX2ojX_kNcz5o_SsHEWqVW5ESYLBISHpuqNkNEA/s400/IMG_7667.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>One cannot. One simply cannot.</em></div>
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Oh, dear, gentle, if somewhat insignificant, readers of mine! I have returned once more to bless you all with the sage wisdom of my being and the great majesty of my me-ness. I don't know <em>how</em> you have managed to survive this long with out me!</div>
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But I am here to update you on the epic doings of my life. They have been epic. These doings.</div>
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First of all, I have been accepting bribes.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiwRi1xd1CZGV6W6JKMwOMMFamH8dCNG4ZNhKV1H-0hiB_4pf76wwjmHyUqlQFVzSYo2xGS0PI4xIkwZlsSwrJxRt877PtdR90U10dsfTM4GPYt8-90-rLQ5IL6nxcuhFx3Y93sw-CyLc/s1600/IMG_7662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiwRi1xd1CZGV6W6JKMwOMMFamH8dCNG4ZNhKV1H-0hiB_4pf76wwjmHyUqlQFVzSYo2xGS0PI4xIkwZlsSwrJxRt877PtdR90U10dsfTM4GPYt8-90-rLQ5IL6nxcuhFx3Y93sw-CyLc/s400/IMG_7662.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Everyone knows that a true dictator must indeed enjoy the perks of Supreme Dictatorship. These include bribes of all shapes, sizes, and smells. This particular bribe is <em>exceptionally</em> aromatic!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdG0YYpgKBa0fVZ78gq6aBn9MdctDbs7inG8-VDBhF32drFgBsqz-gsJ7zg8LSUHuiOcUr_WjMQGBau6S9nsV-2ISef0GPqMznJXP7EH9oEYL-AZ65MfGkBoVhaBSmGb0qehuLMcjDd4/s1600/IMG_7661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdG0YYpgKBa0fVZ78gq6aBn9MdctDbs7inG8-VDBhF32drFgBsqz-gsJ7zg8LSUHuiOcUr_WjMQGBau6S9nsV-2ISef0GPqMznJXP7EH9oEYL-AZ65MfGkBoVhaBSmGb0qehuLMcjDd4/s400/IMG_7661.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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"What is it?" you well may ask with envious curiosity. I will tell you! It is fresh catnip! FRESH, I say! And O! So delightful!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL8EqOIluHKQxjccO07aER3FT820k3gk_gX-gruc8iziO-XhOKT9oDHsMOiSpl0YkZmqivYYCNyUqXnjwpboHMs26OOZy-3j9NWO_q09D7hcc0ksbSnYF61_E383iEeNRBGU-_bYbaN2Y/s1600/IMG_7664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL8EqOIluHKQxjccO07aER3FT820k3gk_gX-gruc8iziO-XhOKT9oDHsMOiSpl0YkZmqivYYCNyUqXnjwpboHMs26OOZy-3j9NWO_q09D7hcc0ksbSnYF61_E383iEeNRBGU-_bYbaN2Y/s400/IMG_7664.JPG" width="282" /></a></div>
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Being of a benevolent nature, I shared a little with the household peons, my Minion and the mama-kitty-fat-cat.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3kb019_PSLXQ_p7iR_vj5fuAAgWikMhqWexdSScZ-ss2a7h_fDYXDppTaRkTdShGffgDplG_dJqXtdMV9uab6tvIm7DQCkx6oy6GjvaK4q28owghVYH_hsYV3uHNSjI37vUoc68JH5E/s1600/IMG_7657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3kb019_PSLXQ_p7iR_vj5fuAAgWikMhqWexdSScZ-ss2a7h_fDYXDppTaRkTdShGffgDplG_dJqXtdMV9uab6tvIm7DQCkx6oy6GjvaK4q28owghVYH_hsYV3uHNSjI37vUoc68JH5E/s400/IMG_7657.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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And now, you are probably wondering as to the purpose behind this bribe.</div>
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Anne Elisabeth, being wretched, has instigated some household changes of which I have not given official stamp of approval. These changes include the decision to keep the above-mentioned Mama-kitty-as-was, giving her the permanent name of "Magrat."</div>
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Magrat!</div>
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Haha!</div>
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Along with opening the doors of Rooglewood to this Mama-kitty of questionable morals and background, Anne Elisabeth has continued to bring orphan kittens into MY dominion. Orphan after orphan after orphan! Is there no end to the plague of them?</div>
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Pictured above are the two newest of the wretched beasts: Minko and his sister, Midnight. Magrat-Fat-Cat insists that they are <em>her</em> kittens. She has long since joined the ranks of us Liberated Women (she's been spayed), and her own brood of mewling beasties have been sent on to their permanent homes . . . and yet, nothing in this world will convince her that those kittens are <em>not</em> hers!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3O_FlnfLDjWpeTrGeI29qg5tsChPoV2AzeYmiXz8nhYY8f_5q06pguHkAq5K4JQwYz-7ILXLOw4fNo9XLrDtf90Sc3hZJq_dOCgwI46Op2rbI8rIq9yxqZUJ3zsUBM6hPNm9ONMdXXY/s1600/IMG_7722.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3O_FlnfLDjWpeTrGeI29qg5tsChPoV2AzeYmiXz8nhYY8f_5q06pguHkAq5K4JQwYz-7ILXLOw4fNo9XLrDtf90Sc3hZJq_dOCgwI46Op2rbI8rIq9yxqZUJ3zsUBM6hPNm9ONMdXXY/s400/IMG_7722.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Magrat: "<em>SO MANY BABIES!!!</em> <em>I don't even remember</em></div>
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<em>HAVING all of them! Weeeeeee!!!!"</em></div>
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She's a disgrace to Liberated Women everywhere. Sigh.</div>
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But, there's no stopping it. The kittens will be fostered, the Magrat will be kept. I've seen so many changes happen in my sweet Rooglewood since I set up my dictatorship here! First the Minion, then that <em>Thing</em>, now this . . . </div>
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Speaking of that <em>Thing</em>: </div>
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<em>Lost a bit of its menace now, hasn't it? Teehee!</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfSFG9pcNJ6MBvPx_zhssp1__BgplmizeE1Vtl10H-F79YXRPmhtN4ZOnknT3zXovFrg1bHclZx8xu6SZzgTqaUD5n29-sg-ooB0qXn9NrEaX4IpS-BUAT2gSdzkkq5fZpt9gZWOSdDI/s1600/IMG_7526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfSFG9pcNJ6MBvPx_zhssp1__BgplmizeE1Vtl10H-F79YXRPmhtN4ZOnknT3zXovFrg1bHclZx8xu6SZzgTqaUD5n29-sg-ooB0qXn9NrEaX4IpS-BUAT2gSdzkkq5fZpt9gZWOSdDI/s400/IMG_7526.JPG" width="288" /></a></div>
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<em>Yikes! Maybe not . . .</em></div>
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Anyway, you see why bribes have become necessary. Otherwise, I really might just have to start advertising for a new Slave Human to serve my every whim and finally see the last of that Anne Elisabeth of mine.</div>
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For now, I shall have to content myself with napping in circles.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmEeroLyMzg2AjRsvh4MD9Cqc9M8LLSpN5qEqdIim8hANZ3XNYcWj4yUpunk7hsOrX3LyOQupaREcYWajm0mRNA-zZSxr0SFMtlNMmYFcTHcQS7C8QpwsZK_f-EByF19T-JqvbzxeamMs/s1600/IMG_7587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmEeroLyMzg2AjRsvh4MD9Cqc9M8LLSpN5qEqdIim8hANZ3XNYcWj4yUpunk7hsOrX3LyOQupaREcYWajm0mRNA-zZSxr0SFMtlNMmYFcTHcQS7C8QpwsZK_f-EByF19T-JqvbzxeamMs/s400/IMG_7587.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>There's nothing like a good circular nap for the tortured soul.</em></div>
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Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-58839611492895362262012-07-30T16:48:00.000-07:002012-07-30T16:48:05.002-07:00The Brilliance of My Adored ObjectSo we are all agreed that my Rohan-sweetness is brilliant, right?<br />
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Of course we are.<br />
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He really <em>is</em> brilliant, though. Anne Elisabeth fancies herself to be something of a writer, but I tell, dear readers, she's got <em>nothing</em> on my dearest darlingest love. He, the adored object of my heart, is a rare and beautiful talent.<br />
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Take, for instance, this poem he wrote. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimTNscy2ANBZ9kge9JmcxTGUQuiKOaEjCO2MuJXul_1ogjJdGplFV8qMGqDPqe52J6yEOpRRJxkOypHNU55HFVwh9zmmM5d_VwaqPH30-KRlbv-kOTdz_dlZn2ia7fajpZX1Hb1fwwqyU/s1600/IMG_7610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimTNscy2ANBZ9kge9JmcxTGUQuiKOaEjCO2MuJXul_1ogjJdGplFV8qMGqDPqe52J6yEOpRRJxkOypHNU55HFVwh9zmmM5d_VwaqPH30-KRlbv-kOTdz_dlZn2ia7fajpZX1Hb1fwwqyU/s640/IMG_7610.JPG" width="512" /></a></div>
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If you have difficulty reading the font, it goes:<br />
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<em>I wish I were a hippo</em><br />
<em>'Cause then I would be fat.</em><br />
<em>But if I can't be a hippo</em><br />
<em>I'd like to be a cat.</em><br />
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It takes a unique sort of mind to come up with comparisons of this majestic magnitude! My mind fairly boggles at the idea. Hippos! Fat! Indeed! And who doesn't, ultimately, find themselves desiring a life feline?<br />
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It is brilliant. My Rohan is brilliant.<br />
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Anne Elisabeth claims to have started it, however. She, being bossy like she is, told Rohan one evening that she needed him to "bring more poetry into our marriage." He, being wonderful like he is, obliged by spontaneously composing this epic rhyme. <br />
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"Hey," says Anne Elisabeth, "You could mention that <em>I'm</em> the one who illustrated it! That's my drawing of your Minion there!"<br />
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Um, Anne Elisabeth, Copernicus called. You're <em>not</em> the center of the universe.<br />
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Really, sometimes, that human . . .<br />
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Anyway, Rohan's brilliance combined with the pedestrian efforts of Anne Elisabeth have served well to give our Petting Station corner a decorative upgrade. See here:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiID1IbaQ2zo1JhVcdjU3dMUTKI89XpDqwTnz9dN4cYm2XPBxfT2i-rmlRInPUODE0F_MYnNrSfvvTAGfOAE9NJDjfsc8qKxK-Zs_0y036HfZa2L0jC68Nw8qEC6n_6ihgnVcq7w8oD-JY/s1600/IMG_7602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiID1IbaQ2zo1JhVcdjU3dMUTKI89XpDqwTnz9dN4cYm2XPBxfT2i-rmlRInPUODE0F_MYnNrSfvvTAGfOAE9NJDjfsc8qKxK-Zs_0y036HfZa2L0jC68Nw8qEC6n_6ihgnVcq7w8oD-JY/s640/IMG_7602.JPG" width="342" /></a></div>
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<em>"Wait a minute . . . She sayin' I'm fat????"</em></div>
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Sorry, Minion. Next to Marmaduke, <em>everyone</em> is fat.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpTmWQVvYn5tYXJC9G6dlJLhm_RNuN3Y2suyBqTFSCQoVVio7BL6flmGC5nBqwgt5DE1-an-s_vvLk58a3lRpoHuD_9WDOaH79S3XJdAmZfc-xVVZblLHm2RdN-cCKD7MyXZn1MpWhywY/s1600/IMG_7605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpTmWQVvYn5tYXJC9G6dlJLhm_RNuN3Y2suyBqTFSCQoVVio7BL6flmGC5nBqwgt5DE1-an-s_vvLk58a3lRpoHuD_9WDOaH79S3XJdAmZfc-xVVZblLHm2RdN-cCKD7MyXZn1MpWhywY/s640/IMG_7605.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<em>I know your eye went right to me in the background.</em></div>
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<em>I mean, who wants to watch Marmaduke and</em></div>
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<em>Mama-kitty kissing when they could watch me?</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4N2jNGEfMrpdn7UM671I1UC7DW_Xf7Yv_L5aRaP7KLPGSA38hHEqSKK6j4KvIBm4clZBhP1lix3hGaChAouC_D_F6e793wS1u0or05sUQxY0u-FXcSSxj_t0W4z94z4sm3WTcMP1DmII/s1600/IMG_7607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4N2jNGEfMrpdn7UM671I1UC7DW_Xf7Yv_L5aRaP7KLPGSA38hHEqSKK6j4KvIBm4clZBhP1lix3hGaChAouC_D_F6e793wS1u0or05sUQxY0u-FXcSSxj_t0W4z94z4sm3WTcMP1DmII/s640/IMG_7607.JPG" width="395" /></a></div>
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Me: "<em>I approve this change, household lackeys.</em>"</div>
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Marmaduke: "<em>I wonder if anyone needs a hug . . ."</em></div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-76543082409365156732012-07-09T11:48:00.000-07:002012-07-09T11:48:21.283-07:00The Spirit of the Dance and Plastic BaggiesYou may think that, with Anne Elisabeth hogging the computer and preventing yours truly from sharing the deepness of my deeps with the lot of you, that I would, thus thwarted, succumb and spend my days doing nothing but nap the nap of the frustrated!<br />
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Oh, no.<br />
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I have been exploring my creative side. Just the other day, I invented, choreographed, and performed a whole new dance for the benefit of my beloved and appreciative Rohan-muffin. He, being the soulful type, understood the poetry of my performance. Anne Elisabeth, being the wretched type, didn't get it at all and snickered the while.</div>
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I know that you are all readers of far superior taste than that of Anne Elisabeth, so I thought I would take the time to share with you some still shots of my elegance as caught on film. Prepare yourselves for beauty unparalleled!</div>
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First we have: The breathless hush before I make my entrance . . .</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPdhEeS2xxtF7nzp36Ap5rP9BXFTDhG81pBrstXZt9UUVA9B4z5aOgPaulTEpcft6sNkST_xzkrB0IdGzeHab-gAisVV9ZJeG3qBZYKDMwITSq9Ph3UANLuZC2N3ngdVBnYSzjgSqnRSw/s1600/IMG_6796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPdhEeS2xxtF7nzp36Ap5rP9BXFTDhG81pBrstXZt9UUVA9B4z5aOgPaulTEpcft6sNkST_xzkrB0IdGzeHab-gAisVV9ZJeG3qBZYKDMwITSq9Ph3UANLuZC2N3ngdVBnYSzjgSqnRSw/s400/IMG_6796.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Then, the moment: The pure, shining moment when I enter, my costume donned.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbr6b_UXpnrIIapkKfqFNRwx7bKmEn-q9taZcti7hIO2Y5i2roqAS3n7mFkzi3IONBAIcpY5rdn9568S9DF3WpocxUwuQRWRQunCmSl-msCTA_T13vhjY1rCe4Z_8GZJXlLQ0tlj2Yww4/s1600/IMG_6801.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbr6b_UXpnrIIapkKfqFNRwx7bKmEn-q9taZcti7hIO2Y5i2roqAS3n7mFkzi3IONBAIcpY5rdn9568S9DF3WpocxUwuQRWRQunCmSl-msCTA_T13vhjY1rCe4Z_8GZJXlLQ0tlj2Yww4/s400/IMG_6801.JPG" width="371" /></a></div>
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"Excuse me! Clear the stage! I'm about to perform!"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxe7_DEBrgksT7Y2CfmIzryFSmpcUWVEuyOpYUaQePlDTlQIDVQXIWIeeIllAJ0u3N8dGvWXBwJxEfyinCxd8BG6gBqNll2Q0eAct2ZSivAaslzDDs0TNVT7EwNWmfDjWmX1LYMblVlRU/s1600/IMG_6806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxe7_DEBrgksT7Y2CfmIzryFSmpcUWVEuyOpYUaQePlDTlQIDVQXIWIeeIllAJ0u3N8dGvWXBwJxEfyinCxd8BG6gBqNll2Q0eAct2ZSivAaslzDDs0TNVT7EwNWmfDjWmX1LYMblVlRU/s400/IMG_6806.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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"Uh, sorry, Minerva . . ."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1scKrbSBZH0zs6pGVbt-0RCuC3svvZtr0Ubgih8UG3W4LOLk6vCBTymocTvUUe8Z6dfJAtY9BIrYXZVj7ICye39bPpzowADUwMSLK7l9mXpReH_ZfcQcXNIXAmAKiAspWcUDE7xCxdzY/s1600/IMG_6807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1scKrbSBZH0zs6pGVbt-0RCuC3svvZtr0Ubgih8UG3W4LOLk6vCBTymocTvUUe8Z6dfJAtY9BIrYXZVj7ICye39bPpzowADUwMSLK7l9mXpReH_ZfcQcXNIXAmAKiAspWcUDE7xCxdzY/s400/IMG_6807.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Now, I strike a pose, ready for the music of the soul to play, for the living poetry of movement to take over my being!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRc-5658d7N2OloFGN6jjapoz-QooNnr_t49K5N8aeAKn5YdXz7dcdSacY5oIgbUNofQ_QWjC_gJNecG6g6cN-f_3u2lKZDhMi9Og1f7pZzdYWkFFGhpLVehsvByaji0aNrCWw6dlxdVY/s1600/IMG_6808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="327" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRc-5658d7N2OloFGN6jjapoz-QooNnr_t49K5N8aeAKn5YdXz7dcdSacY5oIgbUNofQ_QWjC_gJNecG6g6cN-f_3u2lKZDhMi9Og1f7pZzdYWkFFGhpLVehsvByaji0aNrCWw6dlxdVY/s400/IMG_6808.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I roll! I swoop! I spin! I twirl!</div>
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Was there ever a being of such grace, such majesty as I?</div>
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"<em>What???"</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7zAyMtwISAHhO_FGDkefXYMMjgLOXE2oBgQzOWQ53SE2og0TIrlSStCrGK8wxwvgKr1nkquRgBVdRmwpJreWlfjLA4ieWX49gOARYvKrphWcz4Id-xOS-Yboc2eNisbh0kHu7O3CMpg/s1600/IMG_6819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7zAyMtwISAHhO_FGDkefXYMMjgLOXE2oBgQzOWQ53SE2og0TIrlSStCrGK8wxwvgKr1nkquRgBVdRmwpJreWlfjLA4ieWX49gOARYvKrphWcz4Id-xOS-Yboc2eNisbh0kHu7O3CMpg/s640/IMG_6819.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<em>"I don't get it, Minerva. Wha's wif da plastic baggy and the writhin' 'round onna floor?"</em></div>
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<em>"It's art, Minion."</em></div>
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<em>"What?"</em></div>
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<em>"You couldn't possibly understand. Kindly remove yourself from my stage and watch from a respectful distance."</em></div>
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"<em>I jus' fink she looks kinda weird . . ."</em></div>
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A soul as scorched with the Flames of Dance as mine cannot be understood by mere mortals!</div>
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</div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-18834657984853368452012-06-07T12:04:00.000-07:002012-06-07T12:04:02.750-07:00BondageI have been in bondage, my friends, my readers, my loyal followers.<br />
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Bondage, I say.<br />
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Yes, and know, that only the most severe of bonds could have kept me from my duties, posting my thoughts and wisdoms on this blog, sharing my unique perspective with a world living unendarkened.<br />
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But Anne Elisabeth, you see, has been in the throes of drafting her newest novel on deadline and, being wretched, has decided that this deadline of hers is more important than MY blog.<br />
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Well, say you, why don't you complain? Complain and demand your rights as supreme dictator of Rooglewood?<br />
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Oh, believe me, <em>believe</em> me when I say that I have. I have put all four of my dainty paws down, titled my head frighteningly to one side, lashed my exquisite plume of a tail and said, "ANNE ELISABETH! GIVE ME ATTENTION NOW!" Meaning, of course, that I want a chance to blog.<br />
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This is what I get:<br />
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That's right! The binding chains of human affection as personified by Anne Elisabeth's skinny arms wrapped in tight and restrictive embrace about my fluffy yet formidable person!</div>
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<em>Must. Escape. Cuddles.</em></div>
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When she gets in moods like this, there is simply no reasoning with Anne Elisabeth. She will cling and cling and cling like something that clings, and it's either succumb to the affection . . . or flee!</div>
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But I, supreme dictator that I am, have never been one to flee.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG7A2W4vAfRv7xU5QXdx4XdovSFpA6jYoErgU76mmDUwWnzdCz9OxMNmWklSfgOaYkbVT7wUBtin_2FGt88CKbsVKj8o3_Ix2NgujriGL1Gn7Vuo-B13ER3WUveji-G_DKqxdQyqLH5Sk/s1600/IMG_7332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG7A2W4vAfRv7xU5QXdx4XdovSFpA6jYoErgU76mmDUwWnzdCz9OxMNmWklSfgOaYkbVT7wUBtin_2FGt88CKbsVKj8o3_Ix2NgujriGL1Gn7Vuo-B13ER3WUveji-G_DKqxdQyqLH5Sk/s400/IMG_7332.JPG" width="398" /></a></div>
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<em>Fine. We'll cuddle. But don't think I'll enjoy it!</em></div>
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Thus my long absence, my own besotted swains. Even now, I have scarcely a moment before that human of mine is bound to return from her errands and pushes me off the keyboard so she can return to her . . .</div>
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Wait! There she is! Stop! No, no! <em>Bad human!</em> Baaaaaaaaaaaaaasd;lkjf a;lkrj a;lg ja; lj ;lj ;;rel - --------------------------------------------------------------_________________________________ </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(<em>Until next time . . . </em>)</span></div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-8382467541510559822012-05-10T11:34:00.000-07:002012-05-10T12:49:39.136-07:00Cuddles and KissesI think the worst part about having this surplus of kittens in the house has been the additional surplus of affection. (Affection not directed at me, that is.)<br />
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My Minion has been the worst of the lot. He has been especially taken with his little niece, and I am CONSTANTLY finding him all gushy over her! It's pretty horrible.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIvnb3c3sRwZxteY0BJrPFnErFzVQgia2VSY1lmJtDLtBe4GhMbtUnD0UAf94ttGBnNY2LHBxWKWgfsoGOB2wAUM1yGCyDH-4aMzZvwUm0MIKhKzxKUgHZFPm-_F1fx9ML7_WPZil5dIA/s1600/IMG_7163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIvnb3c3sRwZxteY0BJrPFnErFzVQgia2VSY1lmJtDLtBe4GhMbtUnD0UAf94ttGBnNY2LHBxWKWgfsoGOB2wAUM1yGCyDH-4aMzZvwUm0MIKhKzxKUgHZFPm-_F1fx9ML7_WPZil5dIA/s400/IMG_7163.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>An evening groom.</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJLo5pziV_0bADm147RcQrL95kLwbkqAcbEJ38CS-lYGtLD3TOUw2NrNQMzWXSo-CaJj_Q28J2rvlmgCwOsaMqgKR23wXojhvLWvJjrOnqfgVTYSWa0UHVcoFTIzBB3ECsPDvA9ooGQw/s1600/IMG_7164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJLo5pziV_0bADm147RcQrL95kLwbkqAcbEJ38CS-lYGtLD3TOUw2NrNQMzWXSo-CaJj_Q28J2rvlmgCwOsaMqgKR23wXojhvLWvJjrOnqfgVTYSWa0UHVcoFTIzBB3ECsPDvA9ooGQw/s400/IMG_7164.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>All right, all right, "Uncle Monster." I think she's clean enough.</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIK_4fZDrwMfuH37oY056MLWyxUmeSgqRJQKU1lOhIZg5-_Zrad3M1myylBPnPNOAeSSJ7cw9NUE4GKdqFHIQREicBi5I-snCf7bxNQlhjcitMmWbUEpDp0PsGnc_-dCqSkv2od1lSjU/s1600/IMG_7166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIK_4fZDrwMfuH37oY056MLWyxUmeSgqRJQKU1lOhIZg5-_Zrad3M1myylBPnPNOAeSSJ7cw9NUE4GKdqFHIQREicBi5I-snCf7bxNQlhjcitMmWbUEpDp0PsGnc_-dCqSkv2od1lSjU/s400/IMG_7166.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>Even the kitten looks disgruntled here!</em></div>
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And, as if he hadn't gotten her washed up <em>plenty</em> last night, I caught him at it <em>again </em>today.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2PxFWp9iYydh2bvZ6Id5gs8jZ7wTp2W4H3OvG7CVY_rnDAkN70IJvwPN_JvVwNPy1oTsw1o5TNGLIJs7GUffjajxJ32qjmAZ6tB-Ehyphenhyphenk0rSIzRiy4aI1EM5EhPeH9UqOdf6GGbrnvoQI/s1600/IMG_7170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2PxFWp9iYydh2bvZ6Id5gs8jZ7wTp2W4H3OvG7CVY_rnDAkN70IJvwPN_JvVwNPy1oTsw1o5TNGLIJs7GUffjajxJ32qjmAZ6tB-Ehyphenhyphenk0rSIzRiy4aI1EM5EhPeH9UqOdf6GGbrnvoQI/s400/IMG_7170.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCbZ-pvwxNJW-3BAtg2EFgl7suEeZLncSJoCZNVY76nchnsIs6A4RmcTybVzeQXP-gVGRE0cOYyiOtVDKTj6PVKVK9y_8stPyzhzTQz_FqyU3MORyU9jf3K32zilTM0j1xt9XOyEVcdI/s1600/IMG_7178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCbZ-pvwxNJW-3BAtg2EFgl7suEeZLncSJoCZNVY76nchnsIs6A4RmcTybVzeQXP-gVGRE0cOYyiOtVDKTj6PVKVK9y_8stPyzhzTQz_FqyU3MORyU9jf3K32zilTM0j1xt9XOyEVcdI/s400/IMG_7178.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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You'd think minions would be a little more resistant to fuzzy-cuteness than all that. It's disappointing. That's what it is. Disappointing.<br />
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Of course, you except these tiny beasts to be cuddly amongst themselves.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikv9l-YmECFCrq-jxd4kCJQJmpLqi_N6wg3jXmsgkahX_CTNIHfJbARM9GYzDXNTzEbZav6ulTHe2cFDg5zQQrDAWC8bD9Uis-gwBG_P42Wy8lMzfJZtzil4rOvk926Pp3la6MgYchgJ8/s1600/IMG_7181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikv9l-YmECFCrq-jxd4kCJQJmpLqi_N6wg3jXmsgkahX_CTNIHfJbARM9GYzDXNTzEbZav6ulTHe2cFDg5zQQrDAWC8bD9Uis-gwBG_P42Wy8lMzfJZtzil4rOvk926Pp3la6MgYchgJ8/s400/IMG_7181.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Wait a minute! What am I seeing? That kitten in the middle isn't part of the original litter, is he?<br />
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WHAT THE WHISKERS, ANNE ELISABETH!!! Do you think you can just sneak a new one in without my <em>noticing?!?!</em> How many kitties are you going to INFLICT upon my DOMAIN?!?!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEX_ZMlJ4_OzrPuELiZdDLAXVP8YdHIwABDBGEF-2Kk9tjmcTaMJoOk7sR_2i0tUdYC6qxaYhC4v6wpLdeGdhLxEvgKY_dklr69w1_42Wl0G1iiOf0vX3bVsfXtAffcVlSqrZU6TFRb9Y/s1600/IMG_7185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEX_ZMlJ4_OzrPuELiZdDLAXVP8YdHIwABDBGEF-2Kk9tjmcTaMJoOk7sR_2i0tUdYC6qxaYhC4v6wpLdeGdhLxEvgKY_dklr69w1_42Wl0G1iiOf0vX3bVsfXtAffcVlSqrZU6TFRb9Y/s400/IMG_7185.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>Yeah, don't try to be cute.</em></div>
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<em>I'm not accepting you.</em></div>
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The most horrible thing, of course, is seeing my own beloved Rohan falling under the fuzzy-cuteness spell. I thought he at least would have the strength to resist! But, I mean, when the house is brimming with cuteness, even the mightiest will fall.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6ZLQS-4-N4cIbbECJWFQAM_UwH7Xc9IRCVAOSqDcnyK9MOo4VW6NQO2i56CoDKk2p8lDpDHWiiIcbczh4zHown8bOkrehxJbpLs9QBDBMlkN4dFA6wnufuHGkqxc4byQhNQJzolzMmQ/s1600/IMG_7133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6ZLQS-4-N4cIbbECJWFQAM_UwH7Xc9IRCVAOSqDcnyK9MOo4VW6NQO2i56CoDKk2p8lDpDHWiiIcbczh4zHown8bOkrehxJbpLs9QBDBMlkN4dFA6wnufuHGkqxc4byQhNQJzolzMmQ/s400/IMG_7133.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>Alas, Sweet Rohan, that it</em></div>
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<em>should come to this!</em></div>
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I, however, have managed to keep my aloof dignity intact. As ruling despot of Rooglewood, <em>someone </em>has to keep her head on her shoulders, no matter the <em>squeee</em>ing of the household staff.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhkLR_j4G4Vay5lkHXtIHt9SCIqeRNi4kyvDbwtW6QoRWWc35Dj2v1ze3wP3mwQfhWtlGr0UoBJEHnmnvqph40wgafq2DF1sOwkwgoIzNX_y25oAlUTLusuDjs94f5kfxuH7BDJ7VeHbM/s1600/IMG_7139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhkLR_j4G4Vay5lkHXtIHt9SCIqeRNi4kyvDbwtW6QoRWWc35Dj2v1ze3wP3mwQfhWtlGr0UoBJEHnmnvqph40wgafq2DF1sOwkwgoIzNX_y25oAlUTLusuDjs94f5kfxuH7BDJ7VeHbM/s400/IMG_7139.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>See? Aloof distance</em>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLkGhfg9O5-2rk9-JPKkS-_eHHakPd8rGBGGW3ohIYbgT5wOt1oWoBvwV0B-L2ydqYPQXM9PlxjRgBGljYjpMkOnqjPmHzJ5FuTxJC0S9-J_olIHzefRnZkS29h7Ka7tyCSqRZ63dqq1Q/s1600/IMG_7141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLkGhfg9O5-2rk9-JPKkS-_eHHakPd8rGBGGW3ohIYbgT5wOt1oWoBvwV0B-L2ydqYPQXM9PlxjRgBGljYjpMkOnqjPmHzJ5FuTxJC0S9-J_olIHzefRnZkS29h7Ka7tyCSqRZ63dqq1Q/s400/IMG_7141.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>Scamper scamper scamper</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvkdL_T8JLqmZKHRGNkT0uLDixJYoa2WUsdEGRmJYQ-psI5GRg4s8XBWF9CuKK5194owDVM07DwroxjUAmDFL-55Qku0DomjXyDtSTGzMmJBRVkpm0KTfWEOFTWrbsQXnVj0upUVCmnV8/s1600/IMG_7142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvkdL_T8JLqmZKHRGNkT0uLDixJYoa2WUsdEGRmJYQ-psI5GRg4s8XBWF9CuKK5194owDVM07DwroxjUAmDFL-55Qku0DomjXyDtSTGzMmJBRVkpm0KTfWEOFTWrbsQXnVj0upUVCmnV8/s640/IMG_7142.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<em>KISSSSYYY!!!!</em></div>
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What? No! Really! I didn't kiss it!</div>
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Okay, maybe once.</div>
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But, I mean, I am SURROUNDED BY BITTY BABIES! How long must I be strong? How long must I resist?</div>
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I don't know if I can last much longer . . .</div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-38560166032929922162012-05-07T13:04:00.000-07:002012-05-07T14:38:29.981-07:00A Month of WoesI know you all have been pining for my return to the world of blogging. And I'm sure none of you will be surprised to learn that I have been most<em> unkindly</em> prevented from my return by that wretched creature that calls herself an Anne Elisabeth and somehow believes that she--<em>she</em>--has primary right to the computer.<br />
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Life is hard for Household Dictators. Make no mistake.<br />
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But here I am at last to update you on all the terrible woes that have filled my life in this last month, often leaving me to question the very point of existence.<br />
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First of all: These things.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheErNwr8eRh3GULpRIrvlEtxGU7nNvoIJVSeZHWItCh6-V-OewUSaTdxLn2u7N2gKyRj_zcqlfug7uiT6MPC75_WcfFU7LHP095WV9IAeyFtwcXQh82pVt6NcxV0JPls1aU-Vhkxxy9XQ/s1600/IMG_7097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheErNwr8eRh3GULpRIrvlEtxGU7nNvoIJVSeZHWItCh6-V-OewUSaTdxLn2u7N2gKyRj_zcqlfug7uiT6MPC75_WcfFU7LHP095WV9IAeyFtwcXQh82pVt6NcxV0JPls1aU-Vhkxxy9XQ/s400/IMG_7097.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Ugh. They got bigger.</div>
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Don't let this picture fool you, either. They're not so easily contained as all that. What's worse, my Minion seems have to have sided with them!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyAu14hHyaYtncGKcwAG2zU1rOft6wVom84czQ6TzrNcXlbaRBd_ytGVJ3a0vHsO0ZYH6KnIecD3i6WZ-H46k1cay649kpAeRqZe26g5mVHhvabDW8T6n8Ypqhy5a2eIk-1C_CyAu-VBc/s1600/IMG_6982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyAu14hHyaYtncGKcwAG2zU1rOft6wVom84czQ6TzrNcXlbaRBd_ytGVJ3a0vHsO0ZYH6KnIecD3i6WZ-H46k1cay649kpAeRqZe26g5mVHhvabDW8T6n8Ypqhy5a2eIk-1C_CyAu-VBc/s400/IMG_6982.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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That's right! He calls himself "Uncle Monster," and he sneaks into the Kitty Nursery all the time to, like, groom those things, or something. (I think it's more likely he's sneaking in to snitch their kitty food, but he insists his motives are pure.) What's more, he has learned how to open the Nursery Door, so if he gets in there by mistake, he'll open it up and <em>release the foe beasts upon the whole of Rooglewood!</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwS6TRvt2653pd8hH6OcZbOOS3kvke_0TxX8ISw0X0DephlrF_SGLEAIj0XwcfNGoGhFC1MNt5dJAkFh7fv5bEtXEBp9S_oqPmMj392ujNH6mm-fLz7jDJ2BAuveD_OZ2Z_L5Kp0sJH4/s1600/IMG_7020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwS6TRvt2653pd8hH6OcZbOOS3kvke_0TxX8ISw0X0DephlrF_SGLEAIj0XwcfNGoGhFC1MNt5dJAkFh7fv5bEtXEBp9S_oqPmMj392ujNH6mm-fLz7jDJ2BAuveD_OZ2Z_L5Kp0sJH4/s400/IMG_7020.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>But dey're kinda cute, Minerva!</em></div>
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He's obviously been brainwashed. It's horrible.</div>
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So there's that woe. And then there's this other woe that I can scarcely bear to consider even now, and which has necessitated my expression of displeasure via the Knocking Things Off Things Until Something Shatters method. (Sometimes, only drastic measures will suffice.) What is this terrible woe, you ask?</div>
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They--</div>
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No, I'm not crying. Dictators don't cry.</div>
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They took--</div>
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It's really all Anne Elisabeth's fault. I <em>told</em> her not to do it.</div>
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They took my--</div>
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And without even any warning! Though Anne Elisabeth says she's been moping about it for months, so I shouldn't complain. To this I say: Whatever.</div>
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You see, they took my Molly away.</div>
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<em>My</em> Molly.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nR9zPDdYKqpiBKyC__xv6TK0_RiT_UaMga0MYq2nQYlkE3GSi_wKNjUaCw9by7Ec0WfpAW35PXlgNRHy6drihVF_VcnP6KOQrS2QC9YXzlmY5ZE_JKxT4WCTdrgRQwQRjFEstBqbaqE/s1600/Minerva+and+Sisters+122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nR9zPDdYKqpiBKyC__xv6TK0_RiT_UaMga0MYq2nQYlkE3GSi_wKNjUaCw9by7Ec0WfpAW35PXlgNRHy6drihVF_VcnP6KOQrS2QC9YXzlmY5ZE_JKxT4WCTdrgRQwQRjFEstBqbaqE/s400/Minerva+and+Sisters+122.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>"I don't know what's going on . . .</em>"</div>
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I've always had my Molly. I'm not saying we <em>always </em>got a long, but I've <em>always</em> had her! From before my great dictatorship began, we battled over boxes and rattle balls.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh14r_5pO27LM4YOvXktIsWdMOdXtlKSuBtKD_XuyXEAGxaz-N-MHy64QhoEHSZgTPd48WNmcSd-LPSH-DAZ132CteiOB0uuXMxOExWIIjHaNlq25z0q2M4Hs3ULBEejPr22uJYNfuKYe0/s1600/Minerva+and+Sisters+100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh14r_5pO27LM4YOvXktIsWdMOdXtlKSuBtKD_XuyXEAGxaz-N-MHy64QhoEHSZgTPd48WNmcSd-LPSH-DAZ132CteiOB0uuXMxOExWIIjHaNlq25z0q2M4Hs3ULBEejPr22uJYNfuKYe0/s400/Minerva+and+Sisters+100.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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We endured the torment of several moves, the loss of the Queen, and the addition of <em>far</em> too many new siblings.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUExEsCZijT9AWSXLId8XXf6ejbXOVOtcHu52BJLRLQF2TvYe8CXO2xJmmPmcbltyN6iv0MCl7-QP-X87w_cALvc2ui0jX0jZvgUGo1fPOtqzxBUES6i65xNcUgKPAAiiz9jlxU_mZOLk/s1600/Marmaduke+gives+Molly+some+luvin%2527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUExEsCZijT9AWSXLId8XXf6ejbXOVOtcHu52BJLRLQF2TvYe8CXO2xJmmPmcbltyN6iv0MCl7-QP-X87w_cALvc2ui0jX0jZvgUGo1fPOtqzxBUES6i65xNcUgKPAAiiz9jlxU_mZOLk/s400/Marmaduke+gives+Molly+some+luvin%2527.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em>Though one or two of them turned out okay</em>.</div>
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We've always eaten together.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ9adNEIgxbrhHQDvqXz8lMHQ2E_2oWA_DmF0lyuEtP_gjG51vbmyXcY3mbryBTpERXRa0vm6-TRVHJIPZCGIDBsqqLxhWwu0RylG_FsI88H4yMSQsLDWhAuabkqAZjFCjWcgkv71x820/s1600/IMG_5163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ9adNEIgxbrhHQDvqXz8lMHQ2E_2oWA_DmF0lyuEtP_gjG51vbmyXcY3mbryBTpERXRa0vm6-TRVHJIPZCGIDBsqqLxhWwu0RylG_FsI88H4yMSQsLDWhAuabkqAZjFCjWcgkv71x820/s400/IMG_5163.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Even when dining got a little crowded.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xzmvygONZXmu2GnxKnwsyekqjXa4Ub9pK0eLG0QhgIVVMwlos-aXxwGgb3gc3XuospXH_0sqAbCFsWJy39UHlzOt6eXiqJFxApRfhp_sk1Gyd5mPOH11sKcwHH_mKnn4w6AiosOOL5Y/s1600/IMG_5507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xzmvygONZXmu2GnxKnwsyekqjXa4Ub9pK0eLG0QhgIVVMwlos-aXxwGgb3gc3XuospXH_0sqAbCFsWJy39UHlzOt6eXiqJFxApRfhp_sk1Gyd5mPOH11sKcwHH_mKnn4w6AiosOOL5Y/s400/IMG_5507.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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And I've always had Molly's assistance in the ongoing endeavor of Backyard Surveillance.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHq1GipgkgK2TLcu6iy4D6Lsy1b8M3V70XXHCNvltCPfuCSusTraRmuN8BfjwLWFYMKyWfV1-aGRSExoV5dQS42l8iCvHcg5S3bRigTUJ7rSH2LuxllXnbvmtPk40QO3eE0tZVJkZh00I/s1600/IMG_4932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHq1GipgkgK2TLcu6iy4D6Lsy1b8M3V70XXHCNvltCPfuCSusTraRmuN8BfjwLWFYMKyWfV1-aGRSExoV5dQS42l8iCvHcg5S3bRigTUJ7rSH2LuxllXnbvmtPk40QO3eE0tZVJkZh00I/s400/IMG_4932.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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And then, last month, some dude came out of nowhere saying, "<em>Molly!</em> My kitty! I've missed you!"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9mfjJYUy0MRcWAFJG_UYYApdNbvBfbvgrVI37pPjTji9K4DSGA0cWCTxly9R07BDZFatiXwDJcjOe2yBbqI_tfuvKiR2mpaYOBVNE_LQLg9V6KV0HwZcdFWyuwS-h8BqQfe8VrCwy1PU/s1600/422882_10150495803991487_623701486_9223644_1224820139_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9mfjJYUy0MRcWAFJG_UYYApdNbvBfbvgrVI37pPjTji9K4DSGA0cWCTxly9R07BDZFatiXwDJcjOe2yBbqI_tfuvKiR2mpaYOBVNE_LQLg9V6KV0HwZcdFWyuwS-h8BqQfe8VrCwy1PU/s400/422882_10150495803991487_623701486_9223644_1224820139_n.jpg" width="315" /></a></div>
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Wait a minute, Mr. Dude. <em>Whose</em> kitty?</div>
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"It's true, Minerva," Anne Elisabeth told me. "We've just been babysitting Molly for the last four years. She actually belongs to my big brother, but he couldn't have her while he was stationed overseas. Now that he's married, he and his wife can take Molly home to live with them."</div>
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And that was that. They took my Molly away!</div>
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It must be Anne Elisabeth's fault. I don't care if she went and cried in the library after they took her! I don't care if she tells me Molly is happy in her new home and shows me pictures of her sitting on some fancy-schmancy kitty castle! It's her fault, and I won't forgive her for it until I'm jolly well ready to!</div>
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I think I'll go smash something.</div>
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</div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-25936446323783162162012-04-08T15:59:00.000-07:002012-04-08T15:59:55.502-07:00An Excellent OpportunityI have been, as they say, "tagged" by a fellow blogger, a Miss Need2Read of <a href="http://need2read9.blogspot.com/2012/04/blogger-tag.html">need2read blogging</a> (you humans have the <em>oddest</em> names). Deeming this an excellent opportunity to provide the world with deeper insights into the workings of my <em>most</em> inestimable brain, I decided to rise to the challenge. (Anne Elisabeth, who was also tagged, is, of course, being wretched and saying she doesn't have time to do this challenge herself. Do you see what she's like, people?)<br />
<br />
In any case, the challenge details are as follows:<br />
<br />
1. You must post the rules.<br />
2. You must post 11 fun facts about yourself in the blog post.<br />
3. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post and set up 11 more questions for those you've tagged.<br />
4. Tag 11 new bloggers (be sure to hyperlink their names).<br />
5. Let the tagged people know you've tagged them.<br />
6. Have fun!<br />
<br />
My eleven Fun Facts:<br />
<br />
1. I am quite probably the only successful Ruling Despot in your circle of acquaintances.<br />
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2. I started my rise to power from a ditch, whence I had been flung as an unwanted "pet," and was rescued by a boy on a bicycle.<br />
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3. My favorite toy is my blue rat.<br />
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4. I am a very excellent singer. I run my scales every morning to keep my voice limber (until Anne Elisabeth throws her slippers at me).<br />
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5. I <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/video/video.php?v=10150366438886831">enjoy walking my human on a leash</a>. She can be a little difficult sometimes, but it's good for her.<br />
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6. My nicknames include The Evil One, Bitty Kitty, Fluffy Cat, Minnie, Minnie-bitty, and Minerva Louise-y. I prefer to call myself Supreme Dictator, but what can you do with humans?<br />
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7. I have a <em>thing</em> against my water bowl. I believe it is plotting against me and I attack it on a regular basis to keep it in line. One day though, it will rise up, and then the world will see what I see . . .<br />
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8. My favorite game is Minerva-Pong. This is a highly developed and intricate variation on the human classic, Ping-Pong, and it involves me chasing the little pingy balls back and forth across the ping-pong table, usually to Rohan's advantage.<br />
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9. I never thought the love of my life would be a human . . . until I met Rohan. He is my angel-muffin.<br />
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10. My family tree is full of jungle cats and jaguars. Ready to pounce on your head.<br />
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11. One day I will rule the world.<br />
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<em>The Questions I Must Answer:</em><br />
<br />
<strong>1.Who is you favourite character from a movie (and from which movie)?</strong><br />
<br />
I find myself full of strange empathy for the Evil Queen in <em>Snow White</em>. I mean, when you are the fairest one of all, is it not frustrating to have mirrors saying otherwise?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYNDJeb6hyL2vcisZoaBoM9eh-nsMr3oAJtPMCyr4eC-kDHHjDukQRXtxXHzJx63FtO6frKCvBYWhdMoSy9lNa5-JIuiCVAH5oaQ7UQq3ydxdEx_-ko0Kbe2ek4tOeEXIhT3Kghg_i1Lg/s1600/The+Fairest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="363" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYNDJeb6hyL2vcisZoaBoM9eh-nsMr3oAJtPMCyr4eC-kDHHjDukQRXtxXHzJx63FtO6frKCvBYWhdMoSy9lNa5-JIuiCVAH5oaQ7UQq3ydxdEx_-ko0Kbe2ek4tOeEXIhT3Kghg_i1Lg/s400/The+Fairest.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Bad, bad mirror. No.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><strong>2. What is your favourite holiday and why?</strong><br />
I really like my birthday. That's December 12th (I picked it. I was abandoned in a ditch, which means I get to pick my birthday.) I look forward to the day when I have subjugated the nations, and December 12th is nationally known as Minerva Louise Day. Then <em>everyone</em> can enjoy it as I do!<br />
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<strong>3. Who is you favourite music artist/group/composer?</strong><br />
I really love opera. I <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2ODfuMMyss">particularly like this piece by Mozart</a>. I think I was the Queen of the Night in another life (the confused-looking girl was probably Molly).<br />
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<strong>4. If you were an animal, which one would you be (mythical animals included)?</strong><br />
I suppose I wouldn't mind trying to be a human. For a day. Otherwise, probably a bigger jaguar.<br />
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<strong>5. What is you favourite vacation spot?</strong><br />
I don't think I'd mind a little jaunt to the Underworld. Might be cool.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij2fJS071vqrkAjsTiJjp9PhvpucJvryB0Cy8uJWjeuiECYnVJaGktdWQ5hEXEWPbZwOZwaGoQONR0Y2qMK4N7vwMOmrjxKxrh0CAW4Kd7XTkZeUBele82kjVBe3EWvOLKPEWNBHZchfI/s1600/IMG_6546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij2fJS071vqrkAjsTiJjp9PhvpucJvryB0Cy8uJWjeuiECYnVJaGktdWQ5hEXEWPbZwOZwaGoQONR0Y2qMK4N7vwMOmrjxKxrh0CAW4Kd7XTkZeUBele82kjVBe3EWvOLKPEWNBHZchfI/s400/IMG_6546.JPG" width="302" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Or hot, as the case may be.</em></div><br />
<strong>6. If you could be a character from a book or movie, who would you be?</strong><br />
I'd probably try being Galadriel from Lord of the Rings. All exploded and powerful, you know. I think I would have handled the whole Ruling the World with Evil Power thing differently, though.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukM8vjyT61L4T885MTkxAwVei1gdMlSA2EhS2NsRia9B7rRKHjAxShxB0006ZN4q0kqUox1LqX0eDC9mlnfIZBe6-MtKQ_RzXumIxys-rKH_k1AO80jVKhUjZ8aLZvhyphenhyphenBW2Xm-3nxW6I/s1600/Minerva+like+Galadriel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukM8vjyT61L4T885MTkxAwVei1gdMlSA2EhS2NsRia9B7rRKHjAxShxB0006ZN4q0kqUox1LqX0eDC9mlnfIZBe6-MtKQ_RzXumIxys-rKH_k1AO80jVKhUjZ8aLZvhyphenhyphenBW2Xm-3nxW6I/s320/Minerva+like+Galadriel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<strong>7. If you had a theme song which one would it be?</strong><br />
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=10150500839141831">This one!</a><br />
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<strong>8. Where do you go to get inspiration (for writing, drawing, etc.) and what music do you listen to (if any)?</strong><br />
Rohan is my true source of deepest inspiration. Rohan and my love for him. Not to mention my own extreme beauty and jaguar-like cunning. I also like opera (see above) and knocking-things-off-of-things. Very inspiring.<br />
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<strong>9. What book has taught you the best lesson?</strong><br />
I am a cat. Why would I need to learn a lesson? (Seriously?)<br />
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<strong>10.What is your most vivid childhood memory?</strong><br />
When I was a Bitty Kitty, I would ride along inside Anne Elisabeth's art teaching bag to her classes at the Apex Learning Center. There I would help her teach her classroom full of students how to draw. I was, of course, very talented at this.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5hN9bXUtw52h7dJj6JjKCAKzjhPmPa8jyE5pnC29uYyJPvFK5nhUOoumlyYhuiqbG3Ho9nZj-PzmHOkRQ31jAY6WG9DudFbnIYtuWo-SsEqXaWeE-NIDnZ3O9pGh8Ce6q7LiNzJY6pOA/s1600/Minerva+and+Sisters+109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5hN9bXUtw52h7dJj6JjKCAKzjhPmPa8jyE5pnC29uYyJPvFK5nhUOoumlyYhuiqbG3Ho9nZj-PzmHOkRQ31jAY6WG9DudFbnIYtuWo-SsEqXaWeE-NIDnZ3O9pGh8Ce6q7LiNzJY6pOA/s400/Minerva+and+Sisters+109.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>I think an orange pencil . . .</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The students, of course, loved me, and found my advice helpful.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbHc4FW-weeyVEHhygK9wYCNNI_fTCXa64xseIY-YZGcJGjsiztgr4fxI96lmYheqMdZ8GazGgrHaaVfcplr2Ip8ytXijiN-WtDlSO-ufRxLCnQ3C4tapWO2Mf9vKSiU0ktRYr1Zg-Uuo/s1600/Minerva+and+Sisters+110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbHc4FW-weeyVEHhygK9wYCNNI_fTCXa64xseIY-YZGcJGjsiztgr4fxI96lmYheqMdZ8GazGgrHaaVfcplr2Ip8ytXijiN-WtDlSO-ufRxLCnQ3C4tapWO2Mf9vKSiU0ktRYr1Zg-Uuo/s400/Minerva+and+Sisters+110.jpg" width="301" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Yes, an orange pencil was just right!</em></div><em></em><br />
<strong>11. What is you favourite series of movies?</strong><br />
I enjoy the ongoing saga that is <em>The Backyard</em>. There you will see compelling dramas such as "Birdies Flying Overhead," and "Birdies Digging for Worms," and "Squirrels Racing Past the Window," and "Leaves Blowing." Sometimes, there's even an entire episode devoted to "Spiders Building Webs." It's all very exciting, and I find myself riveted more often than not. I recommend the show to anyone!<br />
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Well, there you have it. Being a Ruling Despot and not subject to the whims of mere plebeians, I am going to ignore the rest of the rules set forth and end my role in this Tagger's Game here. Any of you who feel like snitching this, however, and continuing the cycle, do feel free! And let me know if you've done so, for I shall have no interest whatsoever in reading your answers (but Anne Elisabeth might). <br />
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</div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-32658446327616787292012-04-02T11:46:00.001-07:002012-04-02T17:31:32.359-07:00Doctor MewWhen I am getting especially stressed (such as when my very own despotism is overrun with foster kittens. Blah!) there is nothing I like better than curling up and watching some of my favorite shows. You know what I'm talking about, furry readers! After an exhausting day of napping, grooming, plotting, preening, domineering, and knocking-things-off-of-things, we all of us need our down time, right?<br />
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Let me now write reviews of some of my favorite shows. First off is:<br />
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<em><strong>The Backyard</strong></em><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgopVnfOsdI5RgQuTFWQujLLh27cr_GV5jjYZK7MrtQ0RQasG4POTwdwUsVQQ7DeU1a-CQR78ZmuOfk12dLi4pgrIdSyukj_u8aUvvNQHsFDc0hqwTcjVzuvPNplpd7M-YLf8y4i2pf7HY/s1600/IMG_4077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgopVnfOsdI5RgQuTFWQujLLh27cr_GV5jjYZK7MrtQ0RQasG4POTwdwUsVQQ7DeU1a-CQR78ZmuOfk12dLi4pgrIdSyukj_u8aUvvNQHsFDc0hqwTcjVzuvPNplpd7M-YLf8y4i2pf7HY/s640/IMG_4077.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>You can see from the look of confused horror</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>on Molly's face, that this episode is</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>particularly good!</em></div><br />
This is an awesome show that I and the feline (peons) of Rooglewood enjoy every day. It's one of those unscripted Reality Shows. The best episode comes on at 6 o'clock every evening. That's when the Robin Swarm descends to hunt worms, and we all lose ourselves in the fantasy of bird-hunting! It's pretty epic.<br />
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Even without birds, this show can be fairly awesome. For instance, one evening the sky started falling.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3gnb8UBvKqzbGijZDl0_eeDDd5OWAj0fWhrqPZsSfH4d_iK5iYfOmcBIimM90q1Kk0RBy8hDEXU4iaejWiEysnbDEiWFNROHz5_0x-uuy4fheu3DSgXhVy4HIavGe2fYCqv3KvGqNeM/s1600/IMG_4072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3gnb8UBvKqzbGijZDl0_eeDDd5OWAj0fWhrqPZsSfH4d_iK5iYfOmcBIimM90q1Kk0RBy8hDEXU4iaejWiEysnbDEiWFNROHz5_0x-uuy4fheu3DSgXhVy4HIavGe2fYCqv3KvGqNeM/s640/IMG_4072.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>OMG! The SKY is FALLING!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anne Elisabeth, being a know-it-all, said that it wasn't actually the <em>sky</em> that was falling so much as the <em>snow</em> falling <em>from</em> the<em> sky</em>. (That's how she explains things: All patient-like. With italics. Like she knows what she's talking about or something. I ignore her mostly.)</div><br />
Anyway, that show can be very exciting, and it is my favorite. But there are other good ones too. For instance, if the birds aren't showing up on<em> Backyard</em>, I can always be sure of an interesting time watching my second favorite TV show . . .<br />
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<strong><em>Birdies</em></strong><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHKLDde1dptYAqeo6idH2GpHncNaop1jIBUpOSBRZIa2o15_gTjanRfY7HkeSyp4YVzdpN_vWVDOvs5MMQz_Zbfh2LRKJ2gfS46IQDnl95vUPyHLffDxxd1-WcTLZBN-NTgZbc3VtWxjA/s1600/IMG_6371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHKLDde1dptYAqeo6idH2GpHncNaop1jIBUpOSBRZIa2o15_gTjanRfY7HkeSyp4YVzdpN_vWVDOvs5MMQz_Zbfh2LRKJ2gfS46IQDnl95vUPyHLffDxxd1-WcTLZBN-NTgZbc3VtWxjA/s640/IMG_6371.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>I can't tear my gaze away!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Seriously, this is an awesome show! You can <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4EtNg6ODdls">watch it for yourself here</a> and get caught up in the ongoing saga!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For those of you who don't have the time and need a quick recap: It's about this bird feeder, and there are these birds, and these birds come to this bird feeder, and they, like, eat the bird seeds, and they chirp, and they hop around, and then they <em>fly away!</em> and fly back again. It's amazing. Seriously. You've got to see it for yourself!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The sequel, <em><strong><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vORtczn3N7o&feature=related">Squirrels</a></strong>, </em>is good too. Not quite as good, but decent TV, you know? You can't expect every script to be as compelling as <em><strong>Birdies.</strong></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Okay, on to another favorite of mine, which is:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em><strong>Doctor Who</strong></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtQnF5heeBYMKt0J4RF0rNOAh71Rj40tB9ee7_HsrKCAS67h0okbj7DHu67A2iV13n9DiTuFh_xHQpAuXO8VQsoKd0Rgfu1OhNOA6OJJ5ULQPGCLStubItBNctcdQ5ONjcYh5K8CHeFEs/s1600/IMG_6378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtQnF5heeBYMKt0J4RF0rNOAh71Rj40tB9ee7_HsrKCAS67h0okbj7DHu67A2iV13n9DiTuFh_xHQpAuXO8VQsoKd0Rgfu1OhNOA6OJJ5ULQPGCLStubItBNctcdQ5ONjcYh5K8CHeFEs/s640/IMG_6378.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Doctor Mew?</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's a pretty good program. You know, for <em>human</em> TV. Again, you can't expect to find the depth of scripting like you have in <strong><em>Birdies</em></strong> just everywhere, especially not in a TV show based on humans. But there are some pretty good characters:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO5w8Xe4xaMGh177Ntoc7yuEXD45qaqHtiOfxHZDdu5EHBmk_R2Gvy0ifh7BZ1wQ_yR7cl_cg89cinFs6KC7406-sYPvNpCbizElxLWpvATLpht9ZMvBm5zbMQ4c1hWi1vvlx5PDJWdxg/s1600/IMG_6375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="537" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO5w8Xe4xaMGh177Ntoc7yuEXD45qaqHtiOfxHZDdu5EHBmk_R2Gvy0ifh7BZ1wQ_yR7cl_cg89cinFs6KC7406-sYPvNpCbizElxLWpvATLpht9ZMvBm5zbMQ4c1hWi1vvlx5PDJWdxg/s640/IMG_6375.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Hello, Rose Tyler. Could you wriggle around on the </em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>screen a bit more, please?</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And there are lots of Things Moving Around, like monsters and space ships and stuff.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEBLkd9FYtJIlF838Zp_kVczw6NppQGOWsezk4P_Io-kkBhyphenhyphenR9P-qXjBQW4k1m2XqR_2bH0iVR-OfzGS__jZJkLFKzgd7snVKlR1TUFIlniIt8mkr5kPjK5oxJ_KU77EFUzPLBkLF-8Zo/s1600/IMG_6382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEBLkd9FYtJIlF838Zp_kVczw6NppQGOWsezk4P_Io-kkBhyphenhyphenR9P-qXjBQW4k1m2XqR_2bH0iVR-OfzGS__jZJkLFKzgd7snVKlR1TUFIlniIt8mkr5kPjK5oxJ_KU77EFUzPLBkLF-8Zo/s640/IMG_6382.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>When it gets a few inches closer, I will catch it in my paw . . .</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I think those are all my very favorites. I do enjoy watching a little tennis with Rohan now and then too. Now THAT'S a fun game to watch! There's this little ball that goes back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth . . . </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hHGV5I4QJ1WtKHt5UdGwC5j_buPDd0xVFtwTjYZTRUccUX2UtoJ9epoQ8wnjfo6xqMpKA8cZEWJySjwVGIFlS4Z18XQsspoZASbTteSg29MwpON2FvNmfTHddOEwM-_-fQCROWzM8dw/s1600/IMG_5116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hHGV5I4QJ1WtKHt5UdGwC5j_buPDd0xVFtwTjYZTRUccUX2UtoJ9epoQ8wnjfo6xqMpKA8cZEWJySjwVGIFlS4Z18XQsspoZASbTteSg29MwpON2FvNmfTHddOEwM-_-fQCROWzM8dw/s400/IMG_5116.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>And all the little humans go running back and forth</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>and back and forth and back and forth . . .</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's just so cool!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So what are some of your favorite shows?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-32729773840458520892012-03-26T11:55:00.000-07:002012-03-26T11:55:50.737-07:00Tea Party Goddess<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyLk8xRsl-BzOJwfUCmOr6QgFgarYvL4pdAFnlGWLw1_p3SD5xQYrzeNRpnjY6ZTUuqzLLt2LeN775sDy8k3k-KK3tTTcZHliLwE1F_wOnIER3akPjA02CDhcHTQgFZicFeGmGgqrxjD8/s1600/IMG_6744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyLk8xRsl-BzOJwfUCmOr6QgFgarYvL4pdAFnlGWLw1_p3SD5xQYrzeNRpnjY6ZTUuqzLLt2LeN775sDy8k3k-KK3tTTcZHliLwE1F_wOnIER3akPjA02CDhcHTQgFZicFeGmGgqrxjD8/s400/IMG_6744.JPG" width="333" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I am very good at tea parties.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Well, naturally," you'll say. "You're very good at everything, Minerva Louise."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Which is true. I am. But I am particularly very good at tea parties. Anne Elisabeth doesn't think so, of course, but Rohan does. I always sit in his lap when they sit down to their evening cup of tea.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZaw6vxc7WoNJWJn133rvmelHytsPtIp8SpS9ADBXIWovNNSptN34KXA00T0XoPMPiu8vlfQvlruzbSZI0G2tAHwFv6A3XoDPVUcO32Jhl1832dWl2ua4BDZin8houAwO8GgLFK0hVoU8/s1600/IMG_6793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZaw6vxc7WoNJWJn133rvmelHytsPtIp8SpS9ADBXIWovNNSptN34KXA00T0XoPMPiu8vlfQvlruzbSZI0G2tAHwFv6A3XoDPVUcO32Jhl1832dWl2ua4BDZin8houAwO8GgLFK0hVoU8/s400/IMG_6793.JPG" width="307" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>And I wash his fingers . . .</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDpZkNnbZgsFWmvQ5vlFIhuJvB2iEcFdt__h_leF5MxEXlBP_2antwuJgCNn8Fp0vh5_d2fhkwSCAdxR9YZ1d2bCjhCgd16FIBaI0cb4k-xGMlc8M3TxU6_bKouCQZQyY6EwEUKMpe57g/s1600/IMG_6792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDpZkNnbZgsFWmvQ5vlFIhuJvB2iEcFdt__h_leF5MxEXlBP_2antwuJgCNn8Fp0vh5_d2fhkwSCAdxR9YZ1d2bCjhCgd16FIBaI0cb4k-xGMlc8M3TxU6_bKouCQZQyY6EwEUKMpe57g/s400/IMG_6792.JPG" width="307" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>. . . and he rubs my ears the way I like . . .</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DTGT_4FC-YoGn4P4gIMQMbr_K4lg0t3rteIGMcl0XQN3q7DQyR3cEQV_mbzczHAXZL60u9bfePhTaFKzFZDOuENK0D8Txg1IRZ6awkoNpJEp6GRbLy1hV5F_4YC_g8SvTE-gP6cLruY/s1600/IMG_6789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DTGT_4FC-YoGn4P4gIMQMbr_K4lg0t3rteIGMcl0XQN3q7DQyR3cEQV_mbzczHAXZL60u9bfePhTaFKzFZDOuENK0D8Txg1IRZ6awkoNpJEp6GRbLy1hV5F_4YC_g8SvTE-gP6cLruY/s400/IMG_6789.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>. . . and we--</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No. That's NOT my evil face.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Seriously, you people . . .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
Anyway, as you can see, I am quite, quite good at tea parties! Rohan thinks I'm just the cutest thing ever.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThqg2Cb9e0_vhTz1kSj2-UjyyxsaiLApFGwOGF8a8sZPPNyQDkcFUxIBOyRVbZ0BRvr-oeKzPok2JP-vCh3ezGRnlj6GZbPMAz0oMMx64HOqDF_tsKAsaBAR3G5NXEoaS11HG6odYKW8/s1600/IMG_6795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThqg2Cb9e0_vhTz1kSj2-UjyyxsaiLApFGwOGF8a8sZPPNyQDkcFUxIBOyRVbZ0BRvr-oeKzPok2JP-vCh3ezGRnlj6GZbPMAz0oMMx64HOqDF_tsKAsaBAR3G5NXEoaS11HG6odYKW8/s400/IMG_6795.JPG" width="301" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rohan: <em>"She's just the cutest thing ever!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>So much cuter than Anne Elisabeth!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No, really. That's what he's saying.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, as you can see, I know <em>all</em> about tea parties, and I am everyone's favorite. I'm <em>much</em> better at them than Marmaduke (between demanding hugs from everyone present, he always tries to steal a scone), or Molly (who's never sure what's going on), or the Minion (what do minions know about tea parties anyway?), and much, MUCH better than that Thing (who just whines pathetically hoping someone will drop something).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
Indeed, I am a veritable tea party goddess.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
Until this last tea party.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I had been hard at work for the last hour telling Anne Elisabeth where to put everything.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31qn7ogzOqEfT3AbDQAQcJk98i0UqiYJta61Sq3AUIygzmC9I4LlEOCzTnzEiBAIrDZ_upZLPWBWHJ4jFTfytovZPT1DM1sLBB5YnPz9xZtjviNeyjuoUSZqgBVbvvYSCRZUgcJR9jhw/s1600/IMG_6743.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31qn7ogzOqEfT3AbDQAQcJk98i0UqiYJta61Sq3AUIygzmC9I4LlEOCzTnzEiBAIrDZ_upZLPWBWHJ4jFTfytovZPT1DM1sLBB5YnPz9xZtjviNeyjuoUSZqgBVbvvYSCRZUgcJR9jhw/s400/IMG_6743.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>You need to slide the cream a little more </em>this<em> way . . .</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
When who do you suppose showed up?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhfBS1r9P7K7NmJVKnaeZy9gRnLqW2rHJJMKsK_cPf72PNjcc3quS_A4U9lasbFC9iuWITPcNgeKwg6eokHE6O0-dK3PbHupA1Tdph2TrtLy5qm_6u5msLJ8i3ge5hD3TTxUu6t7wm48/s1600/IMG_6752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhfBS1r9P7K7NmJVKnaeZy9gRnLqW2rHJJMKsK_cPf72PNjcc3quS_A4U9lasbFC9iuWITPcNgeKwg6eokHE6O0-dK3PbHupA1Tdph2TrtLy5qm_6u5msLJ8i3ge5hD3TTxUu6t7wm48/s400/IMG_6752.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
That's right! Little Miss Fatso, ready to burst with babies, taking a seat at MY tea party! Isn't that always the way of it? No matter how careful you with the invitations, that Bad Fairy is always sure to turn up, full of cursings and what-have-you. Being a lady of great class and courtesy, I completely snubbed her, of course.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And that's when things got interesting.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
With approximately ten minutes before our guests were due to arrive, Anne Elisabeth decided to take a seat and put her feet up for a moment (lazy beast). That Fat Cat took the opportunity to hop in her lap.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And started having kittens.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"AHHHHHHH!" said Anne Elisabeth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"AHHHHHHH!" said Rohan, observing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"MEEEEEEEEEOW!" said Fatso.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And everything exploded.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rohan ran down the hall, Anne Elisabeth, carrying Mama-cat, followed fast behind, and they disappeared into the guest room, shutting the door <em>in my face</em>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSzQiZSV_-HdHmYsgu8ZNjh71XMJEnmmgATN9mEFpwJkfssfabB9Blvc1FV070f2yzVXGhjRYsmjSrdRLlLdfnRMgvBb2Feqx74ldy-wFvXfkeJ9uE-u2QAz-rsRQOGSX6YU1QD6TWigg/s1600/IMG_6493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSzQiZSV_-HdHmYsgu8ZNjh71XMJEnmmgATN9mEFpwJkfssfabB9Blvc1FV070f2yzVXGhjRYsmjSrdRLlLdfnRMgvBb2Feqx74ldy-wFvXfkeJ9uE-u2QAz-rsRQOGSX6YU1QD6TWigg/s400/IMG_6493.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Marmaduke: "<em>Anyone in there need hugs?</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was appalling. We kept hearing the most horrendous sounds from inside! And then Anne Elisabeth, still having to at least do <em>some </em>of her hostessing duty, had to hop up and finish getting ready for our tea party guests to arrive.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While she was out of the room, we heard Rohan calling:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Sweetie? <em>Sweeeeetie?!?!</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Yes?" I asked.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But Anne Elisabeth assumed he meant her and went running in, refusing to give me admittance. Marmaduke and I listened at the door.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">AE: "What is it, Rohan? Is she okay?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rohan: "She <em>had</em> something! I don't know what it is! But she had<em> something</em>!!!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">AE: "Um. I would assume it's a kitten."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What nerve that Anne Elisabeth has, being all sarcastic at my darling Rohan-muffin. One of these days I'll break her tea cup, and we'll see how sarcastic she gets then . . .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anyway, turns out Miss Fatso<em> did</em> have a kitten. Several of them in fact. And my dearest Rohan wasn't expecting all the . . . stuff . . . that comes with kittens.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7sxKqUQ0oi4T1wnf40HduR3jO283HKhX900EyVRu4tP_iEtCnIfcLrZNlOCa-46g1MYTUeyU7HOc7cnaaMChCbj0OxxXZAe6RxfOfJ2qykEZzf0qizECY36c3O-1pj7dDqIEE80zTSU0/s1600/IMG_6754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7sxKqUQ0oi4T1wnf40HduR3jO283HKhX900EyVRu4tP_iEtCnIfcLrZNlOCa-46g1MYTUeyU7HOc7cnaaMChCbj0OxxXZAe6RxfOfJ2qykEZzf0qizECY36c3O-1pj7dDqIEE80zTSU0/s400/IMG_6754.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Eeeew! That's</em> not <em>tea-party appropriate!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikYRrlEWGLBcFgTXHWXE5t0Mjff-BrxtHME44u64BqkCVO_9pPU0oVpXOcOrbIadI6XSE4LJZlfN7g8lQv12uE73xvNtRc3Em0I_ALTh7-k2ESKnWGOBlrSIPd7NyF-kgUH9unDgohH-E/s1600/IMG_6762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikYRrlEWGLBcFgTXHWXE5t0Mjff-BrxtHME44u64BqkCVO_9pPU0oVpXOcOrbIadI6XSE4LJZlfN7g8lQv12uE73xvNtRc3Em0I_ALTh7-k2ESKnWGOBlrSIPd7NyF-kgUH9unDgohH-E/s400/IMG_6762.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Four of them. That's right. <em>Four!</em> First two blacks, then two whites, three boys and one girl. Tiny, little, squeaking, pink-toed, alien-esque babies.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8vla3Xpvh-0DIpDivZhlJNsY7Wid5eJMP93xwkzI8z46Sa-OzNZ4P7NIg-f1rIfkOEwcwJMLo7nRtlJ20O78UeptsNrzJ-HSp7o7Ki9KUoDhklSnm4EQWnHsGk2xB_ol_JFlAtTvV64/s1600/IMG_6775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8vla3Xpvh-0DIpDivZhlJNsY7Wid5eJMP93xwkzI8z46Sa-OzNZ4P7NIg-f1rIfkOEwcwJMLo7nRtlJ20O78UeptsNrzJ-HSp7o7Ki9KUoDhklSnm4EQWnHsGk2xB_ol_JFlAtTvV64/s320/IMG_6775.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>No wonder Rohan was confused.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Great job, Fatso-cat. I'm sure you're proud of your alien brood.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And that was <em>me</em> being sarcastic. In case you didn't get it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-92230181946932304342012-03-22T12:08:00.000-07:002012-03-22T12:08:08.931-07:00So Much for Being HelpfulRohan thinks I am very helpful. I always help him with his projects around the house: Paying bills, sorting mail, doing the laundry. I am quick with good advice and always have an encouraging purr for him.<br />
<br />
For instance, the other day, he was hard at work on a very interesting project. I hurried to investigate.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTv_OqWQ95GEna5qw8qYE1m4favWOJLbUxGMXp4CfK5847n9mtn8rEn2QzLeB9q0VXk3gfJMvq1i97ZCuwJlECq_bhL0cxQqQKzruBZPRezKkIinpEQjMpKq5SjnWHz1BvhiXDamyPnP8/s1600/IMG_6721.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTv_OqWQ95GEna5qw8qYE1m4favWOJLbUxGMXp4CfK5847n9mtn8rEn2QzLeB9q0VXk3gfJMvq1i97ZCuwJlECq_bhL0cxQqQKzruBZPRezKkIinpEQjMpKq5SjnWHz1BvhiXDamyPnP8/s400/IMG_6721.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"Hmmm. What we seem to have here is a box."</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am an expert on boxes (<a href="http://minervawritesherthoughts.blogspot.com/2011/11/box.html">see this post for details</a>), and I had all sorts of helpfulnesses for him! We worked very hard together on it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf57h3deaaiYWK5LCHlKszbUT01Xdicb4_FOjNN89V_ozuIV8xVizD5jxMgXdt__pcTVGSEs1QV54QiLSIP-d1yK8IomgFQt085pXLPunK2whyJGe3YAcYBnfKgL6GPAM1zAdivezQsg0/s1600/IMG_6723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="347" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf57h3deaaiYWK5LCHlKszbUT01Xdicb4_FOjNN89V_ozuIV8xVizD5jxMgXdt__pcTVGSEs1QV54QiLSIP-d1yK8IomgFQt085pXLPunK2whyJGe3YAcYBnfKgL6GPAM1zAdivezQsg0/s400/IMG_6723.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"I so look forward to seeing what you make, darlingest Rohan!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>It must be something wonderful for me!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We worked, and worked, and I must admit, I was getting very excited. It looks just exactly like the perfect kitty-cover-lair, doesn't it? Rohan is so thoughtful, he . . .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6WKTcQjRwoqlnzCUg8o-B_5KTS-oQzi2omzuWmX8BunzzZ_HBMTiiaH_ZVpvnOfCgA51Dt6R0eMVVZ8O0tMiU8jbuIgwezIsCWuQkNN6s03H_7XCn1bzoLNqcUXe8MTqsk42aWOcMNfI/s1600/IMG_6728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6WKTcQjRwoqlnzCUg8o-B_5KTS-oQzi2omzuWmX8BunzzZ_HBMTiiaH_ZVpvnOfCgA51Dt6R0eMVVZ8O0tMiU8jbuIgwezIsCWuQkNN6s03H_7XCn1bzoLNqcUXe8MTqsk42aWOcMNfI/s400/IMG_6728.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mama-kitty:<em> "What are we doing?"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Would you believe it? Little Miss Prego-Cat came sauntering up when I wasn't looking, all flicky-tailed, purry-cute. Disgusting. What business does she have getting in the way of Rohan's work? He only needs me for assistance!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I vacated the premises at once, of course. And Fatso-girl hopped right in!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrmm0LI9aFXiPEiYlVTvgoPGjMSMlhvvDbc64pKoWAC3cFeeNEVJVTAtlAwiWPidd9Qp4jTJVVrh3o44ps4pWFRZFd4lI8-va8miTTaOCt3ulR6uF1wxssvn3ms8Imo1F-ZsphNvfNcbM/s1600/IMG_6736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrmm0LI9aFXiPEiYlVTvgoPGjMSMlhvvDbc64pKoWAC3cFeeNEVJVTAtlAwiWPidd9Qp4jTJVVrh3o44ps4pWFRZFd4lI8-va8miTTaOCt3ulR6uF1wxssvn3ms8Imo1F-ZsphNvfNcbM/s400/IMG_6736.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mama-kitty: <em>"Why, thank you! This will do nicely!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Do <em>nicely?</em> Do nicely for what? Really, what a lot of gall she has, just assuming Rohan made it for her when <em>I'm</em> the favorite, <em>not to mention</em> the supreme dictator!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJL5AOWe5C95O88zH06E-KTvLBm6_knAeGZDzRAPEwhuVoMybh1oN9wgLIsGYUPEIpn4YNX_bmaLiN5qpl4VEqBYunaOUDOGPIXQHe_fe9qOe9idSq69lj10ltodksZD9R153dA-eAIEo/s1600/IMG_6731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJL5AOWe5C95O88zH06E-KTvLBm6_knAeGZDzRAPEwhuVoMybh1oN9wgLIsGYUPEIpn4YNX_bmaLiN5qpl4VEqBYunaOUDOGPIXQHe_fe9qOe9idSq69lj10ltodksZD9R153dA-eAIEo/s400/IMG_6731.JPG" width="341" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Minion: "<em>What?</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Even her brother, my Minion, was confused. Not quite as confused as Molly, however. No one is as confused as Molly.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wj6ASaFeYva0PKkOLRX-vTA7rKoWH7jbCFxhGtwplK9eCQjHN5WBOpJHXJE3SNRnMGCxf46afkNV_bFUvK4zzarjHyAiXw0yYg4lyIy-hjD8uHNeEc4QcNDOTkolmdxCIHYhyE-7Ar4/s1600/IMG_6732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wj6ASaFeYva0PKkOLRX-vTA7rKoWH7jbCFxhGtwplK9eCQjHN5WBOpJHXJE3SNRnMGCxf46afkNV_bFUvK4zzarjHyAiXw0yYg4lyIy-hjD8uHNeEc4QcNDOTkolmdxCIHYhyE-7Ar4/s400/IMG_6732.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Molly: <em>"I don't know what's going on . . ."</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Marmaduke: <em>"Hi in there! Can I come cuddle?</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">None of them were quite so distressed as yours truly, however, for none of them had been involved in the making of this beautiful kitty lair which Miss Fatso went and appropriated right out from under our noses!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx629JTMy-Yju0UnB_qzmpAwes8-pbY5_V7IkhhXlNX3uhcZ6B1VuqkHcQd41OE642hBsIe7Rb22MX32K4ztx8sraBQjL-88gJnnbOGz6OEMx3xeh3kBpCE0-3ZG7_VuF0N1niyHhwwgc/s1600/IMG_6739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx629JTMy-Yju0UnB_qzmpAwes8-pbY5_V7IkhhXlNX3uhcZ6B1VuqkHcQd41OE642hBsIe7Rb22MX32K4ztx8sraBQjL-88gJnnbOGz6OEMx3xeh3kBpCE0-3ZG7_VuF0N1niyHhwwgc/s400/IMG_6739.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"Look at her. All smug and self-satisfied."</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And do you want to know what's worse?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">LOOK WHAT SHE WENT AND DID IN MY BEAUTIFUL BOX!!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLlZ7d8zMgUqeOy913PwfcZGSw6LftraEX7l5ahXPeZ_bpJrE4ug1ndyxsKvc1cWpD1e1q5ezz1XD-yFQ7WXwy72SZAuufVjzzSed9PtnsMFZ066RN5g0xIL5c69RMqyBpumsbCAIEE_c/s400/IMG_6769.JPG" width="400" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-30715206958823176072012-03-19T07:20:00.000-07:002012-03-19T07:20:19.011-07:00Lobster and LoveI feel I should fill you in on various randomness around Rooglewood now while I still have the chance. What with Mama-kitty due to pop at any time, I wonder how much blogging opportunity I shall have? So let me take this opportunity to remind you once more of the difficult circumstances under which I live and try to maintain a decent despotism.<br />
<br />
First of all, there is that <em>Thing</em> to be considered. Somehow (and I do not pretend to know just <em>how</em>), she seems to have wormed her way into the affections of the various humans in this household. The various humans and . . . well, I shan't tell you of <em>that</em> until the end . . . <br />
Rohan--my own, darling, but strangely bemused with dogginess, Rohan--came home the other day with, of all things, a gift for that<em> Thing</em>. And I'm telling you, dear readers, it was the oddest gift.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFwDgoeBBsgcLhAZXbrWpeSpmUwh1dzgbET1GeBhqUN1K31stUElg92spJosoV4VSAbs4q0lQgCltpdIkO_TmaN514rDp6DwpKisOuP3399G0axz3uthX3hVBGx1e0H1AqQqtdf25EVv8/s1600/IMG_6514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="353" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFwDgoeBBsgcLhAZXbrWpeSpmUwh1dzgbET1GeBhqUN1K31stUElg92spJosoV4VSAbs4q0lQgCltpdIkO_TmaN514rDp6DwpKisOuP3399G0axz3uthX3hVBGx1e0H1AqQqtdf25EVv8/s400/IMG_6514.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div align="left">See her there, carrying it about with her? Can you tell what it is? Well, I certainly couldn't, not for the first fifteen minutes! The creature was <em>so </em>excited, she kept trotting in circles all around the house, and it wasn't until she settled down that any of us got a good look at the thing. And then we saw . . . a lobster?</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTpHT3qDiq-vAozx8eBEqcw8JaLHxAonfM7-uneQRtC_w2fIFlwHkn-Rn_Zkzx8ViyzanoJmG0DlTHyWQ06LRE76x1Ki3yOGciz5FmC4jnFXu3y1GbEXBJeuRTHdZPcBDB6O5r7940z8/s1600/IMG_6517.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTpHT3qDiq-vAozx8eBEqcw8JaLHxAonfM7-uneQRtC_w2fIFlwHkn-Rn_Zkzx8ViyzanoJmG0DlTHyWQ06LRE76x1Ki3yOGciz5FmC4jnFXu3y1GbEXBJeuRTHdZPcBDB6O5r7940z8/s400/IMG_6517.JPG" width="376" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"I wuv my wobster!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That's right. A lobster. An enormous, red, stuffed lobster. And <em>this</em> was the cause of all that trot-about-the-house-in-utter-ecstasy excitement?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I couldn't believe my eyes. So I sent the Minion to investigate.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwjqUngOYa_KOxB-580HMpkjCYWI6qO8qi08h7nNhz8-oNg8xA0RNnuok-8CcMgZ7CV6QLwjxuv9U5hI5XobCu3ZvmItbrBanCBtnksaIWErMspEV1L0aLrzDQyXtzWB6KwoXU54Mwxdg/s1600/IMG_6518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="347" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwjqUngOYa_KOxB-580HMpkjCYWI6qO8qi08h7nNhz8-oNg8xA0RNnuok-8CcMgZ7CV6QLwjxuv9U5hI5XobCu3ZvmItbrBanCBtnksaIWErMspEV1L0aLrzDQyXtzWB6KwoXU54Mwxdg/s400/IMG_6518.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Minion: <em>"What'cha got there, Milly?</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thing: "<em>Grrrrrrrr.</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My tail and whiskers! I had never heard that Thing use such atrocious language! But there she sat, flopped on a towel, her lobster at her side, grrrrrrrring at <em>my</em> Minion!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
He didn't seem to care.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-u85VxlhIacYL4B_Uv6gm_vqFNrloScJHzotc7h1jXRJWqJoey8sTQ12p-XRIxJ1_DyMUW_OMScGaU-cR2tL-UCrc_lwx7c2ioqXpLNe1lJQfV-TqPjbI6mgHf3jAUDsDGebbpAEkKh0/s1600/IMG_6521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-u85VxlhIacYL4B_Uv6gm_vqFNrloScJHzotc7h1jXRJWqJoey8sTQ12p-XRIxJ1_DyMUW_OMScGaU-cR2tL-UCrc_lwx7c2ioqXpLNe1lJQfV-TqPjbI6mgHf3jAUDsDGebbpAEkKh0/s400/IMG_6521.JPG" width="306" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Minion<em>: "Can I have a sniff? Pwease?</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thing: "<em>Grrrrrrrrr.</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My Minion can be very persistent when need arises. He kept after her, sniffing and pawing at her lobster until finally, the Thing had enough.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMoQY1mT6VZKy_4lTGMariR9cEqqlmpAEPvrPgdrBhv7Nzt2WBNijXTuAtDGbNkOFd6o3Z7gVA8HqxaX4Plq0LY7YXlEL7dLje84qmOp0C743fHTVP48q6TtYahEYPapahB-6mBA4gJa0/s1600/IMG_6522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMoQY1mT6VZKy_4lTGMariR9cEqqlmpAEPvrPgdrBhv7Nzt2WBNijXTuAtDGbNkOFd6o3Z7gVA8HqxaX4Plq0LY7YXlEL7dLje84qmOp0C743fHTVP48q6TtYahEYPapahB-6mBA4gJa0/s400/IMG_6522.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Minion: "<em>Wait! Wait! Don't get up, I just wanna sniff!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thing: "<em>Grrrrrrrr and bye!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Since then, she has torn the eyes out of her favorite toy. I guess that's doggy for love? Strange, strange creature.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Speaking of love . . . now that Spring has come to Rooglewood, we are having to deal with the effects of it. Twitterpation is rampant. Marmaduke, as always, falls in love with everything that moves (and quite a few things that don't), so that's no change. Molly keeps pining after her owner, Tom, who is military and has not been able to have her for the last four years (thus she lives under my gentle dictatorship), and keeps insisting, "He's going to come for me soon! Soon!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Whatever, Molly.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
And of course, my Rohan is as utterly devoted to me as a human being can possibly be (despite Anne Elisabeth's wretched attempts to distract his attention).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
But the oddest romance of all has been emerging. And I have to say, I'm more than a little concerned as it involves my very own Minion!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguo1YM_eixxccIckH_AVPAEjmRmQO7sWY-E4_IN_hSK_sZINKM4ac53unGTJnk7Q4-4Z0iMjGcT-MUIv8iLKy3vcToynm-ZV9sIg03GANxM9wswqSZpmwZvt6M60yg7HaalUVVsTugVZI/s1600/IMG_6740.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguo1YM_eixxccIckH_AVPAEjmRmQO7sWY-E4_IN_hSK_sZINKM4ac53unGTJnk7Q4-4Z0iMjGcT-MUIv8iLKy3vcToynm-ZV9sIg03GANxM9wswqSZpmwZvt6M60yg7HaalUVVsTugVZI/s400/IMG_6740.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>*kiss*kiss*kiss*</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"I LOVE YOU, MILLY!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That's right, dear furry readers. The Minion has gone and fallen in love with that Thing! And I have to say, as ruling despot of this household, I'm not entirely certain how to respond. I mean, I consider myself as open-minded as the next kitty, but . . . inter-species romances seem fraught with potential turmoil!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Besides, judging from that face, I'm uncertain what the Thing's feelings for my Minion are in return. I mean, is he setting himself up for heartbreak?</div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-81481407654805852722012-03-14T06:40:00.001-07:002012-03-14T06:40:42.604-07:00And I Do NOT ApproveDid I give Anne Elisabeth permission to drag my own sweet Rohan away to the frigid North Woods of Wisconsin for a week? Did she file the correct paperwork? Did she grovel appropriately or bestow the correct gifts?<br />
<br />
No.<br />
<br />
Did she go anyway, stealing my own sweet Rohan with her?<br />
<br />
Naturally!<br />
<br />
A week, my furry friends. An entire week. No, it did not make it better that Charity came to visit every day (though I do love Charity. She says I'm pretty, proving her great insight). No, it did not make it better that Kyle came to stay at Rooglewood in order to care for the dog, providing us with a lap in which to sit at night. Do you think <em>I, </em>Minerva Louise, supreme dictator by divine right of felineness, am going to accept a <em>substitute </em>lap?<br />
<br />
Think again.<br />
<br />
I thoroughly snubbed both Kyle and Charity all week. And when Anne Elisabeth got home <em>AN ENTIRE WEEK LATER</em>, I gave her a piece of my mind.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTNDBi7IFd87WCyrbJT4gf_8U7UWXeAKwp7LbqeYo3aGivFGfca8S9iQsdk0A4HzeAc1rhdYLD5pqwHKrzJsi7oyCpS0__BdZj3JvKaqywCPI0I-FF7p63oOfHeKnZdsIQC4mFMZhuOE/s1600/IMG_4670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTNDBi7IFd87WCyrbJT4gf_8U7UWXeAKwp7LbqeYo3aGivFGfca8S9iQsdk0A4HzeAc1rhdYLD5pqwHKrzJsi7oyCpS0__BdZj3JvKaqywCPI0I-FF7p63oOfHeKnZdsIQC4mFMZhuOE/s400/IMG_4670.JPG" width="251" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"Why did you LEAVE me?"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No, really. It only looks like I'm cuddling and nuzzling. You're not reading the subtext of body language going on here. In reality, I'm totally chewing her out! I'm not the clingy one of this household, remember. That's all Marmaduke.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj614NJ8yJOxXifavPQHQdoh6dGMmiZikGRGtyNHKeV3LOAzmXdEfQEUsGUh45QOW6GxiCLhtFBhNtuJ5GusLZZTbHiCE5V7a6qMnnfzFv2zpbBiX1B0TdKOCEUSYGjmdIu3H4fBba-k48/s1600/IMG_4668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj614NJ8yJOxXifavPQHQdoh6dGMmiZikGRGtyNHKeV3LOAzmXdEfQEUsGUh45QOW6GxiCLhtFBhNtuJ5GusLZZTbHiCE5V7a6qMnnfzFv2zpbBiX1B0TdKOCEUSYGjmdIu3H4fBba-k48/s400/IMG_4668.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Seriously. I'm not clinging there. I could hop down whenever I wanted to. This was simply a better vantage from which to give her what she deserved.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNszYMoJ2dKWsFqDdgNMtF13r22oTPnj0bmJSKIny42aozds_LQVeav14jttDMgQJrrdP-0KqxyM3cJxgfLxB2Tg_ZgPwAQWGMccJt5u3JO1PHK_J8em8EhlbKpI0xBVjsxKC1AsNEH4A/s400/IMG_4671.JPG" width="400" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Only moments after this was taken, I totally laid into her. Believe me!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh, well. I suppose on the whole we have been seeing some improvements around Rooglewood, <em>despite</em> wretched Anne Elisabeth and all her wretchedness. The kitty population has decreased, significantly! See the creatures below?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2XD376wItBI8f6HxaUhoiilsjvQ-9_Y1JFzRICz92d2DO-GCO5NflelXPaouxHa9Xa1crd4w3wnby0s9gEGp45FI2Jun4zcmPxBaiJzLuG_R0P1obL8fCNrq-pyFTvxy9yundeMKbMYk/s1600/IMG_6566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2XD376wItBI8f6HxaUhoiilsjvQ-9_Y1JFzRICz92d2DO-GCO5NflelXPaouxHa9Xa1crd4w3wnby0s9gEGp45FI2Jun4zcmPxBaiJzLuG_R0P1obL8fCNrq-pyFTvxy9yundeMKbMYk/s400/IMG_6566.JPG" width="258" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That's Mo (white) and Muppet (brown), the two feral kittens Anne Elisabeth insisted on taking in this winter. They have both gone to their new homes, thank heaven, leaving Rooglewood a little bit more peaceful than before!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMdkDX6x9fW166yWC01fr5vKf-JOF9w8VJCAz3DVK4f46lGSdP6dydgHssQkln250o1e6ZYGd-DoRcoHqvqxv19X7kH3EGl9UCP5x_S7lAY4w1aaBUoeVkJsOj9YzK9c2d08lkjsuuow/s1600/417029_3181604391911_1619752428_2750041_843233320_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMdkDX6x9fW166yWC01fr5vKf-JOF9w8VJCAz3DVK4f46lGSdP6dydgHssQkln250o1e6ZYGd-DoRcoHqvqxv19X7kH3EGl9UCP5x_S7lAY4w1aaBUoeVkJsOj9YzK9c2d08lkjsuuow/s400/417029_3181604391911_1619752428_2750041_843233320_n.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Mo, renamed "Stig," playing with a mousie at his new (not-Rooglewood) home.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtTm29gnfDW5dTHdg3_KQqzXUoSkY2nRHEIsCEmBebNFxd_MvQIvLhJpZ16bnx5oYk4HKBgcXBFZDJgyOdntEcYhjdIgcmCftjp_QDYFoae1ggATTSJ8n1A4h-HA0Ks_ZJTDng4763HpU/s1600/IMG_6699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtTm29gnfDW5dTHdg3_KQqzXUoSkY2nRHEIsCEmBebNFxd_MvQIvLhJpZ16bnx5oYk4HKBgcXBFZDJgyOdntEcYhjdIgcmCftjp_QDYFoae1ggATTSJ8n1A4h-HA0Ks_ZJTDng4763HpU/s400/IMG_6699.JPG" width="288" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>And Anne Elisabeth having a last cuddle with Muppet</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>on the day she went to her new (not-Rooglewood) home.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So thank goodness for that!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now we just have to deal with little Miss Fatso cat being all here and all pregnant and things.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVKMopP33-EYf0xBnBnHfJNZXl0AKCoGFD85AGjGhzMBuSVUWq_DPOPHM60LqLjowRwY7wBvAVlnqwzS1UlLIE8F8vLhQ2QZ8vyeuq7tcUNUC48v5A_EN_ASFkZMzwHJLxP1lb782rlj8/s1600/IMG_6577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVKMopP33-EYf0xBnBnHfJNZXl0AKCoGFD85AGjGhzMBuSVUWq_DPOPHM60LqLjowRwY7wBvAVlnqwzS1UlLIE8F8vLhQ2QZ8vyeuq7tcUNUC48v5A_EN_ASFkZMzwHJLxP1lb782rlj8/s400/IMG_6577.JPG" width="326" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>There she is. In my house. All fat. And pregnant.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anne Elisabeth says she could double the Rooglewood cat population in one day if she's as full of babies as Anne Elisabeth suspects she is.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Heaven help us all.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-39689365031940109382012-02-27T10:02:00.001-08:002012-02-28T07:37:46.243-08:00Little VisitorsAnne Elisabeth is always saying silly things to me. And I do mean silly! Things like: "Oh, Minerva Louise, you need to be nicer when we have visitors at the house."<br />
<br />
"I'm perfectly nice to visitors. They pet me," I reply.<br />
<br />
"Oh, I don't mean regular visitors," says she. "I mean all the <em>little</em> visitors. Like the kittens who come to stay. Or the new Mama-kitty. Those kinds of visitors."<br />
<br />
What nonsense.<br />
<br />
Just in case you, dear reader, for some inexplicable reason side with Anne Elisabeth, allow me here to make my case against little visitors.<br />
<br />
For one thing, little visitors often don't prove to be <em>visitors</em> at all. Some of them never go away.<br />
<br />
Take this one, for instance. Two years ago, almost exactly, Anne Elisabeth plopped this "little visitor" down in my house and said, "Isn't he cute?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGWXDMmM5j-c8_w_db4gqW1aViSZCjTlhUUOSYpJqRstlebwZHJLdFfVhc5b67tAYLkHY9lnhXdsTLUZtLWFMakLi0hXck5KVmvcybKdAvEm7Y9XhrDweQwyavoBgBkqJcL_DpU_HcH-8/s1600/IMG_3248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGWXDMmM5j-c8_w_db4gqW1aViSZCjTlhUUOSYpJqRstlebwZHJLdFfVhc5b67tAYLkHY9lnhXdsTLUZtLWFMakLi0hXck5KVmvcybKdAvEm7Y9XhrDweQwyavoBgBkqJcL_DpU_HcH-8/s640/IMG_3248.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div align="center"><em>Isn't he </em>WHAT???</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I was, as you may well imagine, horrified!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJO7DZvAoCLABuUW-b5EEAnRXxPGF4odozHD1RkF3RTUW2EYnExhdHaRGszi_YgfsLOXLH0tGsZ6lyUa6Eymc1BFUPELkNA9VQXO7jLNaRylq1E4Dg9Jr8Sh9rVU7hc6WbTiPh6qYwpRY/s1600/IMG_3253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJO7DZvAoCLABuUW-b5EEAnRXxPGF4odozHD1RkF3RTUW2EYnExhdHaRGszi_YgfsLOXLH0tGsZ6lyUa6Eymc1BFUPELkNA9VQXO7jLNaRylq1E4Dg9Jr8Sh9rVU7hc6WbTiPh6qYwpRY/s640/IMG_3253.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>I am horrified.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Up until that moment, I had always been the resident Bitty Kitty. And I saw absolutely no reason for that status to change!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOkUHOtoKNshkj544p0b9hgAT3m0mYEqgZSQ7M24zTtSAGzeHBK0ppO_yr6W_GX3Mj_4J8uhyphenhyphenlbHNdD5drWfgkY7ET8aAvvaMXP-CWdWejZaEArZFfsWz5w4lD4gLdZALbAmaWzDDqy7k/s1600/IMG_3257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOkUHOtoKNshkj544p0b9hgAT3m0mYEqgZSQ7M24zTtSAGzeHBK0ppO_yr6W_GX3Mj_4J8uhyphenhyphenlbHNdD5drWfgkY7ET8aAvvaMXP-CWdWejZaEArZFfsWz5w4lD4gLdZALbAmaWzDDqy7k/s640/IMG_3257.JPG" width="490" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Ye gads! Even my phaser eyes have no affect on this one!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The wretched thing didn't even have the courtesy to be duly terrified by its new surroundings. It settled right in that very evening and made itself at home in MY home!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJ84anUPX-xfI2aM2845cJWzZuQzFI1c1V39pXgZZB-piIb9spL0bV47JAbBhlM1a0mIpvgMVZgP2j18TOWXiMtJZeuwQokvOMTkwtFQTCxMiE_LLzTzIXo7Yuomly77YHVhWPl9Qe_k/s1600/IMG_3283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJ84anUPX-xfI2aM2845cJWzZuQzFI1c1V39pXgZZB-piIb9spL0bV47JAbBhlM1a0mIpvgMVZgP2j18TOWXiMtJZeuwQokvOMTkwtFQTCxMiE_LLzTzIXo7Yuomly77YHVhWPl9Qe_k/s640/IMG_3283.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Oh my gosh! It's GROOMING! How dreadful . . .</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And then, to pour oil on the fire, it decided it wanted to take MY crinkle ball!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSTfRmXJjCOECv6gvltncv2fDn_9UUimVOFeE_R8wVrbJbk1Y4EHizL9FEzRCeHO0TFbh4a_lS4NvBlv4IGX8JBgyCRwh_e3Tuyk3A-EcaamCbLN4ljniNiR887vsNV15vDGdlyO32iQ/s1600/IMG_3313.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSTfRmXJjCOECv6gvltncv2fDn_9UUimVOFeE_R8wVrbJbk1Y4EHizL9FEzRCeHO0TFbh4a_lS4NvBlv4IGX8JBgyCRwh_e3Tuyk3A-EcaamCbLN4ljniNiR887vsNV15vDGdlyO32iQ/s640/IMG_3313.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Little Visitor: <em>"Hello! Sharing is a GOOD thing!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Me: "<em>No it's not!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then it decided that we ought to be friends!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJEkTRBOFSuWMhak41wB7eA4RzjASWEHPVtyaWdlBs0wq4HHs0tDZLm_gpSO2P1554z5dXhTuQkP6S4KRFmi2cITyjpJNiSqILw_NtVVLWYWxBG12J0G6FHLhxXrUs3SU2Wsn7kgvr2z0/s1600/IMG_3315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="441" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJEkTRBOFSuWMhak41wB7eA4RzjASWEHPVtyaWdlBs0wq4HHs0tDZLm_gpSO2P1554z5dXhTuQkP6S4KRFmi2cITyjpJNiSqILw_NtVVLWYWxBG12J0G6FHLhxXrUs3SU2Wsn7kgvr2z0/s640/IMG_3315.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Little Visitor: <em>"I just loooove you!</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Me: "<em>Yeeeeeuck."</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But being (as you will have guessed by now) Maramduke in miniature form, this particular Little Visitor decided to fall madly in love with me. And I found myself suddenly stuck with a reddish-brown shadow.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOREe_Kxv5MvvoOxmsLFR5EyT2POqwH8NImOr38lLtuyKot2qNcrC7ZvQ35Meo5-dSw3629VIg-F451TaikTusyFmIQsXixg5g1yqD7Dvr_j-oA8fazN-HgkNab8oGd9waf9euZ9gQ09g/s1600/IMG_3348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOREe_Kxv5MvvoOxmsLFR5EyT2POqwH8NImOr38lLtuyKot2qNcrC7ZvQ35Meo5-dSw3629VIg-F451TaikTusyFmIQsXixg5g1yqD7Dvr_j-oA8fazN-HgkNab8oGd9waf9euZ9gQ09g/s640/IMG_3348.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Me: <em>"Stinky litterboxes! I can't even sleep in my own chair anymore."</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Marmaduke: "<em>I love you!"</em></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtoRL8FtxPTkkmP1nA4Ggz_b9i8Nzk3mwKUsjUWcg2Z56vPca4r2zQZFye12-BspKskka0YmoZ3VnyAfbRByKrQLMwf4bqOnBbjxW0MGMzwymAKjYkOBSysnh8nK3tRsug_AsU4BczKus/s1600/IMG_3353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtoRL8FtxPTkkmP1nA4Ggz_b9i8Nzk3mwKUsjUWcg2Z56vPca4r2zQZFye12-BspKskka0YmoZ3VnyAfbRByKrQLMwf4bqOnBbjxW0MGMzwymAKjYkOBSysnh8nK3tRsug_AsU4BczKus/s640/IMG_3353.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Me: <em>"Doesn't matter if I move to the couch. It follows me."</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Marmaduke: "<em>I love the couch!"</em></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJokZFPyCPacC2Dbep_hhOC4xsu8R8YdlOCEOhiPMCMoseQhUSMeTg3ty3gUwgHBFgDdBqdpL5wSKPpwbtDrap_fVNG7acwnS0ccn3PwRhIGNFED244Ex5HsVcNxc-gb99b6UkHlGZ_bE/s1600/IMG_3365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJokZFPyCPacC2Dbep_hhOC4xsu8R8YdlOCEOhiPMCMoseQhUSMeTg3ty3gUwgHBFgDdBqdpL5wSKPpwbtDrap_fVNG7acwnS0ccn3PwRhIGNFED244Ex5HsVcNxc-gb99b6UkHlGZ_bE/s640/IMG_3365.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Me: "<em>Really, kid, can you give me some space?"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Marmaduke: "<em>I love you soooooo much!</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD735GjRYBxwL_fsNorJLDohl2nNIZMIRH2S6vahyG03ohe1hhvDsvZhGFHeujCMD6qSbdMha8pYmD0kogwsqn9jYB7q16aNbaAmVqLmRSP_7QFBRzSM_AKE8R6Euj8IKYmdbB-Zlz7HM/s1600/IMG_3367.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD735GjRYBxwL_fsNorJLDohl2nNIZMIRH2S6vahyG03ohe1hhvDsvZhGFHeujCMD6qSbdMha8pYmD0kogwsqn9jYB7q16aNbaAmVqLmRSP_7QFBRzSM_AKE8R6Euj8IKYmdbB-Zlz7HM/s640/IMG_3367.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Me: "<em>Are you going to follow me everywhere?"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Marmaduke: "<em>I love the WHOLE WORLD!</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yeah. So that's how that Little Visitor turned out. Can you see why I'm not so happy-jolly-purry to see them when they come stopping by? What with Marmaduke, then the Minion, then that <em>Thing</em>, you just can't trust them to Go Away!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But, really, I do make an effort. Seriously, I do! The other day, while Rohan was grooming that <em>Thing</em>, we had a very strange little visitor indeed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQI0LaGfyUtP6zt7QtmOnTs-pbFWxsaAzxVLxqbSlwK4VwLNEPvKFHX05s54iSROPH4iD_xPxCchKCqPWOfOGnpsR6DPK-VhzR2Esz7YBFZ0nyV7fV7w1yTw9oLDhNYKXTtKiA1Sjw01o/s1600/IMG_6609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQI0LaGfyUtP6zt7QtmOnTs-pbFWxsaAzxVLxqbSlwK4VwLNEPvKFHX05s54iSROPH4iD_xPxCchKCqPWOfOGnpsR6DPK-VhzR2Esz7YBFZ0nyV7fV7w1yTw9oLDhNYKXTtKiA1Sjw01o/s640/IMG_6609.JPG" width="382" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Oh, my goodness me! Is that ANOTHER dog?</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I rolled around very cutely in an effort to be charming. I even showed it my phaser eyes!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjN7tAtKJtiX8ZuzUByKai5h1zP9BPrPWZNrnWLx7PJ_u-x9AN_-uRff3-eNS2obkGq5Dgckl36a5dgHHoGkDhilAObgBnFnuhRKqE0-wcbRflBVQ1JcG0zS9i-OmKQDrwm4NqwZeFrEs/s1600/IMG_6610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="548" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjN7tAtKJtiX8ZuzUByKai5h1zP9BPrPWZNrnWLx7PJ_u-x9AN_-uRff3-eNS2obkGq5Dgckl36a5dgHHoGkDhilAObgBnFnuhRKqE0-wcbRflBVQ1JcG0zS9i-OmKQDrwm4NqwZeFrEs/s640/IMG_6610.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>And there it sat, looking stupid. So impolite.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I eventually had to run up and rend it to pieces for being so dull, and Anne Elisabeth was obliged to sweep up its remains. Take that, Little Vistor!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then yesterday, we had a Little Visitor of an entirely different breed . . . the kind known as The Human Toddler.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Even Marmaduke was intimidated by this one:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdv9sOhCyah4BHRpaVTaht5NllXtCKMYV1irryh8hTGesX2QqRLhpCVrE_yiho5I74v1q1QfrqExuMnCf0RjUSPCcJeLiCbrWAp0zseGlZybCeVxEkvtdC_qlEl3eGE20riM2fz_T8DY/s1600/IMG_6620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdv9sOhCyah4BHRpaVTaht5NllXtCKMYV1irryh8hTGesX2QqRLhpCVrE_yiho5I74v1q1QfrqExuMnCf0RjUSPCcJeLiCbrWAp0zseGlZybCeVxEkvtdC_qlEl3eGE20riM2fz_T8DY/s640/IMG_6620.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"I love you . . . from back here!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But, as surpreme dictator of Rooglewood, I did my best as hostess to entertain the wee one. I did!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKskCj89A4rfIac56ZJ1ZXJd83kZVaB6v32O8ckr053zR5c1c19u4BnNvYrfx7WNgBPI_UONbSIT80Qu5A_APh1IyCoMY5BLl_YC-rpSGQKK0PruvFlf5Ol2q0Y6qPdMfzYS-VYntqqC8/s1600/IMG_6624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKskCj89A4rfIac56ZJ1ZXJd83kZVaB6v32O8ckr053zR5c1c19u4BnNvYrfx7WNgBPI_UONbSIT80Qu5A_APh1IyCoMY5BLl_YC-rpSGQKK0PruvFlf5Ol2q0Y6qPdMfzYS-VYntqqC8/s640/IMG_6624.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>From a respectful distance, mind. Those Toddlers are quicker than you think!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Have I made my compelling case to you, dear furry friends everywhere? Is it not unjust of Anne Elisabeth to expect more of me? Are not the Little Visitors among the greater terrors of the known world?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-57574481253765976822012-02-19T09:09:00.004-08:002012-02-19T09:19:21.411-08:00Marmaduke Does What Marmaduke Does BestIt will come as a surprise to none of you who know Marmaduke that he has already started making eyes at the new girl.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB-FPvl7RfZZsvJkRYQ8hzHTntLbfc5uoA6cO6B1ok5Zo8wynMtD64OyFzf8qmwYSb-6Ao2yBT0s6NblB9aw-KDJ0GpJmz1cGrUx8LKDCbXyr1b0Jec9HX9X-4YPmMwk38TXA6HBa3Yi0/s1600/IMG_6523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB-FPvl7RfZZsvJkRYQ8hzHTntLbfc5uoA6cO6B1ok5Zo8wynMtD64OyFzf8qmwYSb-6Ao2yBT0s6NblB9aw-KDJ0GpJmz1cGrUx8LKDCbXyr1b0Jec9HX9X-4YPmMwk38TXA6HBa3Yi0/s640/IMG_6523.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Yup, that's Marmaduke out in the sunroom with little Miss Prego Cat.<br />
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"Muffin," Anne Elisabeth calls her. That's right, "Muffin." Did you ever hear such a name? And she's stuffed to the gills with, like, sixteen million babies inside. Marmaduke says she told him she's due to burst in another 2-4 weeks.<br />
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"And I will be a good daddy to them all!" Marmaduke declares.<br />
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Whatever, Duke. He tried to mother all the kittens we fostered last year too. All nurturing and stuff. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAJp8wuXXSHTJo7QWIV3oJI25aSwtpL6cjIIwSc8wk95EPSxj5LuRgYqo2S04lWRIBvCnXIADazOmhvaMIZLP5QO63Gkn1fzFOb2ZvNvtDYk4AjwIfW20m2qGUkq6G3uFmSScd2Zpm2UE/s1600/IMG_5270.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAJp8wuXXSHTJo7QWIV3oJI25aSwtpL6cjIIwSc8wk95EPSxj5LuRgYqo2S04lWRIBvCnXIADazOmhvaMIZLP5QO63Gkn1fzFOb2ZvNvtDYk4AjwIfW20m2qGUkq6G3uFmSScd2Zpm2UE/s640/IMG_5270.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"This is now my baby."</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He would follow them around, grooming them, teaching them how to hop up on things, playing mousies with them, and teaching them about candles and stuff.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0vC8vQUHRrc0ucFsAJFaZuqfUyYsqQuu96GRakLGDhchFiRDFadlXS5AvEuu4jGgOw1JvSVQJlQf5LJTJViPJtu9QeGigfejmdrcTKlkkkOQzLI75xhxBw9VkUG9xEUQ5oEdhyphenhyphenJVn-DU/s1600/IMG_5302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0vC8vQUHRrc0ucFsAJFaZuqfUyYsqQuu96GRakLGDhchFiRDFadlXS5AvEuu4jGgOw1JvSVQJlQf5LJTJViPJtu9QeGigfejmdrcTKlkkkOQzLI75xhxBw9VkUG9xEUQ5oEdhyphenhyphenJVn-DU/s640/IMG_5302.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"This is a candle, my kitten. You sniff them. And then your whiskers go ZIIIIP!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> It was disgusting. Somehow I don't think miss Fluffy Muffin is going to take kindly to him mothering her kittens either! But there he is out there anyway, buttering her up.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFQMkukQ8IsW_RLSh2tTzOIXErZNdV4GlV_g-8eLG5XMxctCncQwuMUcXdLQlpzCDvpL7X7AaoLmhJO49GVRBZn54FTSulpt0gakRDustDvaBu1qTBB9vSSmJ4pK3Xa_3-QVNSgplUTQ/s1600/IMG_6527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFQMkukQ8IsW_RLSh2tTzOIXErZNdV4GlV_g-8eLG5XMxctCncQwuMUcXdLQlpzCDvpL7X7AaoLmhJO49GVRBZn54FTSulpt0gakRDustDvaBu1qTBB9vSSmJ4pK3Xa_3-QVNSgplUTQ/s640/IMG_6527.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>If it were me, I'd be hissing and telling her to skeedaddle back</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>to the bamboo forest where she belongs!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Which," Anne Elisabeth says, "is why you aren't allowed out with her for now, Minerva Louise. Marmaduke is helping her integrate."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh, is <em>that</em> what you call it?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hmph.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqTojRd-dkWZj-QhY7ahiXT_V4p-yQ4A9g43wr13JHemzbxFH478g-7KGqa9oL-5r9vYJ0CZzDeHaLlhT8l3BJ1BK6k9VAnkdiapZfyd1SXOw3QlHqLJrZRKGpPMhnm9KtI1IC0Wf6RY/s1600/IMG_6530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqTojRd-dkWZj-QhY7ahiXT_V4p-yQ4A9g43wr13JHemzbxFH478g-7KGqa9oL-5r9vYJ0CZzDeHaLlhT8l3BJ1BK6k9VAnkdiapZfyd1SXOw3QlHqLJrZRKGpPMhnm9KtI1IC0Wf6RY/s640/IMG_6530.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Look at her, being all cutesy with those dangling paws.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Makes my whiskers curl.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's all right though. Rohan, knowing I would be upset by all this kitten-rescue nonsense, bought me a <em>beeeeyootiful</em> bouquet of roses!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_z9NpSYRh59m4U6Th6CNydHjeQuoc-ZPd7bgv9OlEv2ExxFsv-qW0jPHhPDCp-La1-IO21CpODXuIxLNEhi0EqqG2yhYoT-X4KTxUoICWM4K4pjdRVlkVA4xKh8w8DnmMTLtNJwP7tA/s1600/IMG_6533.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_z9NpSYRh59m4U6Th6CNydHjeQuoc-ZPd7bgv9OlEv2ExxFsv-qW0jPHhPDCp-La1-IO21CpODXuIxLNEhi0EqqG2yhYoT-X4KTxUoICWM4K4pjdRVlkVA4xKh8w8DnmMTLtNJwP7tA/s640/IMG_6533.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>He is so thoughtful!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anne Elisabeth, being wretched, insists that they are hers. She says they are to celebrate the two-year anniversary of when she beat him at fencing tournament thereby catching his attention and motivating him to ask her out the week after, leading to their marriage a few months later.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Poppycock!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He's actually celebrating the fact that he met Anne Elisabeth two years ago and that she, soon after, introduced him to ME. I mean, doesn't that make a lot more sense?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div align="right"></div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-35280903897131096382012-02-15T12:31:00.001-08:002012-02-15T12:33:20.398-08:00Something SinisterDear readers mine, there is something sinister happening at Rooglewood. Anne Elisabeth, of course, is keeping all hush-hush. But I can smell it, I tell you! She doesn't have to say a word. I can smell it!<br />
<br />
There is something lurking behind closed doors.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNJHmuAcFDejYN1ZUghrX_R66GnRJyJIMezxqJO9_24T9sEx_lwvzNXkMJg_B-c41uysIpPZXR27yel_OzMsPHzmKxh1epvL5yhPOug4jbxVYZ-yAtoCB7MZpC2xSfHsqDkhoRRuEnkx0/s1600/IMG_6491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNJHmuAcFDejYN1ZUghrX_R66GnRJyJIMezxqJO9_24T9sEx_lwvzNXkMJg_B-c41uysIpPZXR27yel_OzMsPHzmKxh1epvL5yhPOug4jbxVYZ-yAtoCB7MZpC2xSfHsqDkhoRRuEnkx0/s400/IMG_6491.JPG" width="362" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Don't you believe me?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjahjiBTf8SdyY6ZxJpvduBis8r91MUAZ86K3VPavgLH1ZghipYjVCbpecEcKwgMWJRQ4Y8JwFOiFCbQBpVSzaD-hMEzACrH7eZ1Wae09JJ_6H947SpCCpx_GZHagzH9CiSon_0BSUE7pY/s1600/IMG_6492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjahjiBTf8SdyY6ZxJpvduBis8r91MUAZ86K3VPavgLH1ZghipYjVCbpecEcKwgMWJRQ4Y8JwFOiFCbQBpVSzaD-hMEzACrH7eZ1Wae09JJ_6H947SpCCpx_GZHagzH9CiSon_0BSUE7pY/s400/IMG_6492.JPG" width="357" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>It's freaky, man!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That <em>Thing, </em>so far, is the only one who seems to believe me. Which isn't saying a whole lot . . . Still, it's nice to have someone else helping me to guard this portal of evil.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60-X1-ZqVm5sL8MRiskv68kD0kweQeJ8PF1MnFlkbiDSTuOQYfrQHBzbY2mBJm1eZvKACULfjLzzO2kIQnYBeGTtamb_60IAfRhsjI58sKBTNMlFYiR3H8-DI5K8fxetCAAYZtTSfSUo/s1600/IMG_6495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60-X1-ZqVm5sL8MRiskv68kD0kweQeJ8PF1MnFlkbiDSTuOQYfrQHBzbY2mBJm1eZvKACULfjLzzO2kIQnYBeGTtamb_60IAfRhsjI58sKBTNMlFYiR3H8-DI5K8fxetCAAYZtTSfSUo/s400/IMG_6495.JPG" width="228" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But no matter how long we waited, Anne Elisabeth wasn't letting us through. So I left that <em>Thing</em> to do the guarding, and I did some investigation.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sometimes, I like looking through Anne Elisabeth's pictures on her computer. I am quite often surprised and pleased by what I find:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixvTjDEg3iwJvGntaSvHSn3KZxbHRG446_F5EAzMRnfW_Fz3brJ7dJ7UoMy4rA0r1tz3AlVpTzDxOBwyjEQITxou2tvfMXpH2HWsm0E6Dd7i45IAWXQlEk6KDZeXKXp0SoRvOHQfRaxEg/s1600/IMG_3782.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixvTjDEg3iwJvGntaSvHSn3KZxbHRG446_F5EAzMRnfW_Fz3brJ7dJ7UoMy4rA0r1tz3AlVpTzDxOBwyjEQITxou2tvfMXpH2HWsm0E6Dd7i45IAWXQlEk6KDZeXKXp0SoRvOHQfRaxEg/s400/IMG_3782.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>My stars! Who is that gorgeous creature?</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But today, I was rather less pleased. For when I started searching Anne Elisabeth's most recent files, I found this!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNG8utVft0xygdJqfo6BYKDf1O3DMK8kYCrFo5ev6jqNgIF1Pvd8avprh-iA3BsPlclP0i2OOIv96S3Ths5Ssb_jTLvBvvly7bqpVN0-sOKfvDPbmWA6-j5ch0UC7JN3X1vLnJJpoafMc/s1600/IMG_6457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNG8utVft0xygdJqfo6BYKDf1O3DMK8kYCrFo5ev6jqNgIF1Pvd8avprh-iA3BsPlclP0i2OOIv96S3Ths5Ssb_jTLvBvvly7bqpVN0-sOKfvDPbmWA6-j5ch0UC7JN3X1vLnJJpoafMc/s320/IMG_6457.JPG" width="320" /></a> And this!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;">And worst of all, THIS!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLpehRp4fqOcifao6sMj0JWT1k7RxJTFN866UrO4UwoNwI1RVqq6tbdbd8MhLfP4PldCBCu1LE3E88TPqGVGiZFVVC2wqg5Sg1sg8KWupwCgwrDj-N1pEMVVLuf3MKLe2ktLd0WC5zis/s1600/IMG_6469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLpehRp4fqOcifao6sMj0JWT1k7RxJTFN866UrO4UwoNwI1RVqq6tbdbd8MhLfP4PldCBCu1LE3E88TPqGVGiZFVVC2wqg5Sg1sg8KWupwCgwrDj-N1pEMVVLuf3MKLe2ktLd0WC5zis/s320/IMG_6469.JPG" width="286" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLpehRp4fqOcifao6sMj0JWT1k7RxJTFN866UrO4UwoNwI1RVqq6tbdbd8MhLfP4PldCBCu1LE3E88TPqGVGiZFVVC2wqg5Sg1sg8KWupwCgwrDj-N1pEMVVLuf3MKLe2ktLd0WC5zis/s1600/IMG_6469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLpehRp4fqOcifao6sMj0JWT1k7RxJTFN866UrO4UwoNwI1RVqq6tbdbd8MhLfP4PldCBCu1LE3E88TPqGVGiZFVVC2wqg5Sg1sg8KWupwCgwrDj-N1pEMVVLuf3MKLe2ktLd0WC5zis/s1600/IMG_6469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><div style="text-align: left;"></div></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUpdx2ygw-2UnWn8eUYYltPYiQId86IUWbu5Gq9dlc-xWuQjPzZxIaapqct_NHzzrEJTQP7cvJjCB8KUG52z24luMy-GWL-8N1YFDFL5_lTEMwE8-aFuVouQdsN_qRB7W-l_epp15FM8A/s1600/IMG_6499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUpdx2ygw-2UnWn8eUYYltPYiQId86IUWbu5Gq9dlc-xWuQjPzZxIaapqct_NHzzrEJTQP7cvJjCB8KUG52z24luMy-GWL-8N1YFDFL5_lTEMwE8-aFuVouQdsN_qRB7W-l_epp15FM8A/s320/IMG_6499.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Do you know what those are? Those are wild kittens again, that's what those are! And the last one--I can hardly believe I'm saying this--the <em>last </em>one is the Minion's own sister, all grown up, and EXPECTING MORE KITTENS!!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anne Elisabeth has turned MY domain into a veritable charity house!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Please, please, please, dear readers . . . if you know anyone who might want to adopt a kitty (or several!) do send them directly to me. I've got to get these creatures out of my territory, or I just don't know WHAT Anne Elisabeth might do next!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-24124692117572722862012-02-11T13:21:00.000-08:002012-02-11T13:22:24.495-08:00In the End, It's All About StandardsI mean, if you haven't got standards, what have you got?<br />
<br />
You've got Anne Elisabeth, that's what you've got. Or at least, Anne Elisabeth's poor taste.<br />
<br />
Here's the thing: Objects d'Kitty should not be picked out without first consulting the Kitty. How would you like it if someone went around picking out <em>your</em> litter box or <em>your</em> hair brush without bothering to consult your opinion on the subject? And when it comes to food dishes, well . . . I mean, should there even be a question here?<br />
<br />
But Anne Elisabeth gets so high-and-mighty, forgetting her place in the universe (which--correct me if I'm wrong--is serving the kitties, right?). She goes out shopping for food dishes without any thought in her head, particularly not what the resident dictator of Roogelwood might consider appropriate. She justs picks out whatever she wants, plops it down, and expects us all to eat and be happy!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdEjMHTUyCeWZcN9pbzGe-T02JXS4hSzTIM3WA_y_SIWPZpPDjDRg3bIej_zN-jv04enUSldwF_QxtRyhRIou-BnPFr4Hmk8JTnn1nPbL35jwXh-W2kc_RVntKykDqVC33nxYdb04ZOY/s1600/IMG_5510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdEjMHTUyCeWZcN9pbzGe-T02JXS4hSzTIM3WA_y_SIWPZpPDjDRg3bIej_zN-jv04enUSldwF_QxtRyhRIou-BnPFr4Hmk8JTnn1nPbL35jwXh-W2kc_RVntKykDqVC33nxYdb04ZOY/s640/IMG_5510.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>All right, we're eating. Doesn't mean we're happy.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anyway, since that <em>Thing</em> came to stay (against all my best advice), our food dishes have been moved to the Art Studio up on the table where certain <em>Things</em> can't reach it. There, under the light of clear day, I had an opportunity to finally really look at my selection of food dishes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Welllll . . . they weren't <em>too</em> bad. Not on the whole. I mean, one has a pretty blue paw print (that's the one Anne Elisabeth bought me when I was a bitty kitty), one is a handsome shade of red, and the other is lined with elegant green stripes. As far as food dishes go, they are acceptible.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjggnHHEc4livmQJca7txRDA6w4Uds-EQ6VExRfMEXWhcJSkLESoVCiN2smmUo_IQjHFtIgzm-oednOW3eabcxOAwt9Kua1UIgbijuyfNzo5vmTDJRuDWhsn1csiRxJfrXeKJf0hSEK6qo/s1600/IMG_6422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjggnHHEc4livmQJca7txRDA6w4Uds-EQ6VExRfMEXWhcJSkLESoVCiN2smmUo_IQjHFtIgzm-oednOW3eabcxOAwt9Kua1UIgbijuyfNzo5vmTDJRuDWhsn1csiRxJfrXeKJf0hSEK6qo/s640/IMG_6422.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>These please my grace.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then there was the most recent one. The gray one. The blah, bleh, blecky gray one.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It did not pass muster:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGG_PbdSwyRopsfhHhfJjHST8upULajAYOlaGqJarEao0i7-bGCAn7X5D8Ik3thRshERP8kLE6g2qAev9fphgR-I3H35wjvUQGVxfdMqE_xbbX91t3L75xVhcNykzSNKspLWNFnhlhU1Y/s1600/IMG_6420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGG_PbdSwyRopsfhHhfJjHST8upULajAYOlaGqJarEao0i7-bGCAn7X5D8Ik3thRshERP8kLE6g2qAev9fphgR-I3H35wjvUQGVxfdMqE_xbbX91t3L75xVhcNykzSNKspLWNFnhlhU1Y/s640/IMG_6420.JPG" width="443" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Bye-bye, gray bowl.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJcASXHmQ-X3VzfCXkMrdG2dtfOABNppXOobeG8Gw4ytXH7lg29HQur4K0ukLBFF2eCVCEy0crDELJz4sN96qUWO2F1d9DlE_HFnk97U-dvgNCOwRWi6EpLgV6pHdDYG45v2tojw8tOBU/s1600/IMG_6421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJcASXHmQ-X3VzfCXkMrdG2dtfOABNppXOobeG8Gw4ytXH7lg29HQur4K0ukLBFF2eCVCEy0crDELJz4sN96qUWO2F1d9DlE_HFnk97U-dvgNCOwRWi6EpLgV6pHdDYG45v2tojw8tOBU/s640/IMG_6421.JPG" width="392" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>I don't see what you're kicking up such a fuss about, Anne Elisabeth.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Ultimately, this was your fault.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I mean, really? Who goes out and <em>purposefully</em> chooses a plain gray bowl? You'd think she was feeding feral cats with it or something!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrw-S5xoYzAIXA4s0wYFLnbsvI-Ce0BzJOHcAuP83DdvWs3ntC_5_UUVUvXoAbsKP8QjahBDl-WWzCcDSFBkguzGJscpZs1i2xKZHS-jJanrNOkdfKmfQY2b-QAceIQeCL_Q7pux-Dwck/s1600/IMG_6424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrw-S5xoYzAIXA4s0wYFLnbsvI-Ce0BzJOHcAuP83DdvWs3ntC_5_UUVUvXoAbsKP8QjahBDl-WWzCcDSFBkguzGJscpZs1i2xKZHS-jJanrNOkdfKmfQY2b-QAceIQeCL_Q7pux-Dwck/s640/IMG_6424.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>It's about standards, Anne Elisabeth.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Do the world a favor and go get some.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And bring back some tuna while you're at it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-48455622993174498832012-02-07T10:28:00.000-08:002012-02-07T10:28:10.818-08:00The Pros and Cons of Minion ManagementIt is generally considered good practice for supreme evil rulers to keep minions on staff. This one, as you know, is mine:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGB2KbuNAHrEcMKNby1z-9NUVxQtFYAFYLBXupNgrFwVxGnmaJ2Q8GADIgb8wlzz2_wYjuQnkYH9weqGlcTfmbnsT3ZGzRaBfWV1bbwMOYCI0-a62mpTgG37crGx1OfeA8aTYhNao-Q7k/s400/IMG_6386.JPG" width="368" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Threatening figure of feline mystery, isn't he?</em></div><br />
Minions are useful when it comes to accomplishing grunt-work tasks beneath Supreme Dictatorial Dignity. Mine, for instance, is great for things like distracting that <em>Thing's</em> attention while I slip over to investigate (I didn't say <em>eat,</em> I said <em>investigate</em>) the dog food. He's great for flopping down right under an unsuspecting human's feet, effectively tripping them up while I make a snatch for whatever forbidden oddment might have caught my fancy. And of course, when it comes time for pure muscle, you can't beat a good minion.<br />
<br />
The problem is, as every Supreme Dictator knows, minions can be so . . . stupid.<br />
<br />
For instance the other day, when my Minion got into the Kitty Basket. The Kitty Basket, you must know, is a thing of a great wonder and delight. It is where all the catnip mousies, jangly balls, feather toys, and my beautiful Blue Rat are kept when we aren't busy strewing them across the house. It is also where Anne Elisabeth (in a moment of stunning idiocy) recently decided to keep my harness and leash.<br />
<br />
My poor, lovely harness and leash.<br />
<br />
So, yeah. The Minion, rummaging for a mousie, found them, both leash and harness, dragged them out and proceed to eat them.<br />
<br />
That's what I said: <em>Eat</em> them.<br />
<br />
What is it with Minions and eating anything that fits in their mouths? I ask you!<br />
<br />
He chewed through my BEAUTIFUL belongings in about five different places, swallowing much of it (which Anne Elisabeth had the pleasure of rediscovering in the litterbox over the next few days). He destroyed it beyond all usability and, when confronted about his evil behavior, he said only:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31k_Nu8FlIet6l8-1cJoz5mb3XOakP_zhg6CXT20fKOiAQDWFl1qMilHRSFM7Gb9o-90LNwxrlM5wx-5XtT3BJN6CoFYM2Mn89QhVgI8zfLEox7uamAiKIA_mKP8RMHS_jw_YTOOorwE/s1600/IMG_6391.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="351" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31k_Nu8FlIet6l8-1cJoz5mb3XOakP_zhg6CXT20fKOiAQDWFl1qMilHRSFM7Gb9o-90LNwxrlM5wx-5XtT3BJN6CoFYM2Mn89QhVgI8zfLEox7uamAiKIA_mKP8RMHS_jw_YTOOorwE/s400/IMG_6391.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"<em>What???</em>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div>And they call <em>me</em> the Evil One!<br />
<br />
I mean, who does that? Who eats other people's leashes and harness and then just SITS there looking all fluffy about it?<br />
<br />
Only a Minion, I tell you!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2of7MB2eGGHohhdLQS4UfVLXoiom3R4Rttb_FRXU9SYpyLswerj39qqKn5ofPuvsC0FPG1GhzrWokoXeTwdZXwrF4ynslsPdTueg92ZyJiLHs0kaD7VALoI816AwT2ZRiYcA3p2gKl1Q/s1600/IMG_6394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2of7MB2eGGHohhdLQS4UfVLXoiom3R4Rttb_FRXU9SYpyLswerj39qqKn5ofPuvsC0FPG1GhzrWokoXeTwdZXwrF4ynslsPdTueg92ZyJiLHs0kaD7VALoI816AwT2ZRiYcA3p2gKl1Q/s400/IMG_6394.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"<em>But, Minerva, it was vewy tasty an' . . . an' nummy an' . . . an' I was hungwy . . ."</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yes, that's how he talks. With a baby voice. Pushing fourteen pounds of adolescent hugeness, and he talks with a baby voice.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08hgwNEpmh5f7dI_39d9JENcTuy-z-XJZKqjLcl-EhswVmYNUHD1TtSwW6jeub4nQ_ywDI6RbmXgFRQk3xzLN5pQXsza1vyl7ZO5qEVk31z2PyNEd2WQiRv3h1NmtkhJB9QvJiCLVjf0/s1600/IMG_6397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08hgwNEpmh5f7dI_39d9JENcTuy-z-XJZKqjLcl-EhswVmYNUHD1TtSwW6jeub4nQ_ywDI6RbmXgFRQk3xzLN5pQXsza1vyl7ZO5qEVk31z2PyNEd2WQiRv3h1NmtkhJB9QvJiCLVjf0/s400/IMG_6397.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"<em>Mo-om! Minerva says I talk wif a baby voice!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So there you have it, furry readers everywhere. Minions! What can a Supreme Mistress of Villainy do?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-44521691011512760762012-02-01T13:25:00.000-08:002012-02-01T13:32:02.991-08:00My Extremely Excellent SongI am a very musical cat.<br />
<br />
Cats, everyone knows, are naturally very musical. They sing, they dance, they play percussion instruments (I myself am remarkably good at crashing glasses and little glass beads). But of all the cats I know, I am by far the most musical. I live, breathe, and sleep on music!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZcYkhDZgRTI-bcJmHZ-96BT7mDJeRAOGEFrIo4d5hkKPw4ujjQC6j1cVSgIEUON92kIRLxxW-WH-W0lDFV0L1q2fCirHUCy81mj8V1p_sqJI0NQq3P5KNfIzbBYRQcAZ-JDgQdkoEDg/s1600/IMG_5602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZcYkhDZgRTI-bcJmHZ-96BT7mDJeRAOGEFrIo4d5hkKPw4ujjQC6j1cVSgIEUON92kIRLxxW-WH-W0lDFV0L1q2fCirHUCy81mj8V1p_sqJI0NQq3P5KNfIzbBYRQcAZ-JDgQdkoEDg/s400/IMG_5602.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Music is comfy.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The other feline inhabitants of Rooglewood are nowhere near so in tune to their artistic natures as am I. I love LOTS of music. Especially opera. I <em>looooove</em> opera. Whenever Anne Elisabeth is having a less wretched than usual moment and puts on a bit of a Puccini . . . ah! That's when I get very, very happy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurv57Z9nVI9CW7ZFSE8z5f3BqUi2H9-3iZhy7WVMD9y5S5NCmOugX2oxjpiNsBMvPgHWuHNXaBQkEdjH5XT1EsE0DLLBMsuuCDElZ4Uhb9Pw8QBNCk4xkcw1GlqUW0A8Hpfpl_8abKE8/s1600/Fear+Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurv57Z9nVI9CW7ZFSE8z5f3BqUi2H9-3iZhy7WVMD9y5S5NCmOugX2oxjpiNsBMvPgHWuHNXaBQkEdjH5XT1EsE0DLLBMsuuCDElZ4Uhb9Pw8QBNCk4xkcw1GlqUW0A8Hpfpl_8abKE8/s400/Fear+Me.jpg" width="326" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>This is happy</em>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If Anne Elisabeth decides to practice the piano, I come running from any corner of the house to help. She needs all the help she can get, you see, and I make for a beautiful muse of inspiration! I hop up next to her on the bench or sit above and chew on her score just so she knows where to put the right emphasis. I am so helpful.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And she still is wretched enough to say, "MINERVA LOUISE! Stop chewing Chopin!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Humans. Bah.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After several years of my very helpful helpfulness with her music, Anne Elisabeth eventually decided that I needed a theme song. So she came up with <a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=632392073#!/video/video.php?v=10150500839141831">this arrangement and variation on an old song</a> and dedicated it to me! (You might want to turn down your volume a little bit . . . it starts out loud.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It is very wonderful because it is mine. I know my song, and every time she sings it to me, I start purring and blinking sweetly. After all, I need to encourage whatever <em>good</em> behavior Anne Elisabeth shows! It doesn't happen often. And do you see how absolutely adorable I am at the beginning and end of that video? I am such a demure little shrinking violet, aren't I?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If you had trouble understanding the extremely excellent lyrics, they are:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Every little breeze sings Minerva Louise</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Birds in the trees sing Minerva Louise</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Each little rose tells me it knows</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>I love you</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>I love you!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Every little beat that I feel in my heart</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Seems to repeat what I felt at the start</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Each little sigh tells me that I</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Adore you</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Minerva Louise!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Just to see and hear you</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Brings joy I never knew</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>But to be so near you</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Thrills me through and throoooo--oough.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Anyone can see why I wanted your kiss.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>It had to be, but the wonder is this</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Can it be true someone like you</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Could love me</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Minerva Louise!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-41811701334689802822012-01-30T13:14:00.000-08:002012-01-31T11:08:24.493-08:00The Annual HorrorSo yeah. Sometimes Anne Elisabeth is so wretched I can hardly even begin to express it. <em>Sometimes</em> meaning, once a year. Usually around the end of January.<br />
<br />
That's right, ladies, gentlemen, and furry friends across the nation: I'm talking about the Annual Vet Checkup.<br />
<br />
She really played it up this time. It's enough to make a kitty's tail bristle! You see, the night before, she went and fetched my beautiful blue leash and harness. I took one look at those and said, "Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"<br />
<br />
I love my leash and harness. Not all kitties do, but as for me, there's nothing I like more than a good walk around the backyard, especially when darling Rohan is out working on the garden and needs my help and company. Not that it's easy to have a <em>good</em> walk with Anne Elisabeth. She is quite stubborn on the other end of a leash sometimes:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW7SO4CEyPBgFap0nwGdY7K_pTFNGhF3wdtM71z6OubFd6wMUqyiAepjIL6jq3z2BqaC_UbwFTIo1PJQSupdGPCMvMZa2qIZg5RzW2cdRnLutOjbssCSibCqPeMvGWF5ck-ulORPoS4Ok/s1600/IMG_5946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW7SO4CEyPBgFap0nwGdY7K_pTFNGhF3wdtM71z6OubFd6wMUqyiAepjIL6jq3z2BqaC_UbwFTIo1PJQSupdGPCMvMZa2qIZg5RzW2cdRnLutOjbssCSibCqPeMvGWF5ck-ulORPoS4Ok/s640/IMG_5946.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">See what I have to live with?</div><br />
Nevertheless, a good walk is one of my very favorite things. I've been walking on a leash since I was a bitty kitty, before Marmaduke even came to stay. So whenever Anne Elisabeth gets out my leash and harness, I get very excited! I mew and flick my tail quite fetchingly to encourage this good behavior. When Anne Elisabeth took it out that night, I even went so far as to chase after her, gamboling adorably as only I can (I am <em>awfully</em> adorable, you understand). But Anne Elisabeth laughed at me!<br />
<br />
"No, no, Minerva Louise," she said in that condescending way of hers. "Not tonight. You need to wait until tomorrow."<br />
<br />
Well, fine. If you're going to be that way about it.<br />
<br />
I knocked her sharpie under the refrigerator, and that showed her.<br />
<br />
Anyway, the next morning, Anne Elisabeth came staggering out of the bedroom much earlier than usual (it's funny to watch when she does that) and got my leash again. "Meeee?" I asked, much less convinced than before.<br />
<br />
"Don't fuss, Minerva," said Anne Elisabeth--unfairly, since I hadn't even <em>begun</em> to fuss yet--"It's your own fault. If you would act like a decent cat and go in your cage, I wouldn't have to leash you every time."<br />
<br />
Pause right there. What <em>decent</em> cat goes willingly into a cage?<br />
<br />
Don't bother to answer. That was rhetorical.<br />
<br />
I began to suspect what was really happening by then. And when she grabbed me and slipped me into the leash and harness, I did everything in my power to make it the most unpleasant experience for her. By shear brute force, however, she won the day and carried me out to the car. By then I was certain: It was Vet Visit Day!<br />
<br />
Ugh.<br />
<br />
It's really not fair at all. The other kitties, when taken to the vet, get to come home right away. But all because I had a severe allergic reaction to a vaccine as a bitty kitty, Anne Elisabeth gets all worried-mother-protective at me and insists I stay <em>all day</em> at the vet for observation! At least, <em>worried-mother-protective</em> is the excuse. Marmaduke says she just enjoys having a day off from wickedness.<br />
<br />
I say Marmaduke's a dweeb and bat his nose.<br />
<br />
Well, I certainly don't make it easy on anyone concerned, you may believe me. Oh, I'm a perfect lambykins when Anne Elisabeth walks me into the vet office. Everyone exclaims over my great and terrible beauty. <em>"What a soft little kitty girl!"</em> they say, and you can hear the awe in their voices. Then they take me into the back room, and Anne Elisabeth leaves for the day.<br />
<br />
Hours later when she shows up to fetch me home, she approaches the desk with trepidation. She can hear caterwauls from the beyond, and she asks the vet techs in a tremulous voice, "Um . . . is that one . . . mine?"<br />
<br />
They give her hollow-eyed stares. "Is yours Minerva?" they ask.<br />
<br />
And she collapses in embarrassment until I am brought forth. Vaccinated, yes, but not defeated. One day, Veterinarians, you too will bow before the will of Minerva.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNA4oGIC2t_MfY_-hiwfSpRB1wDAvBY_RoF9wtXdi04VgULeFr31HNS9J7UHdNeNIhJd4YzVld8cT_oAVJeF768VNp3tFW9ODq-X_MWtxHoUFkC14kHzrMUoIlWVb-sZmfLvnVTuXi2PU/s1600/Fear+Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNA4oGIC2t_MfY_-hiwfSpRB1wDAvBY_RoF9wtXdi04VgULeFr31HNS9J7UHdNeNIhJd4YzVld8cT_oAVJeF768VNp3tFW9ODq-X_MWtxHoUFkC14kHzrMUoIlWVb-sZmfLvnVTuXi2PU/s400/Fear+Me.jpg" width="268" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Fear me!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This time, like any other, once restored to Anne Elisabeth arms, I became quiet and demure as a fluffy chick, and she carried me back to the car. I'm always a little bit loopy after shots, and I figured there would be time enough to dream up revenge later.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But do you know what Anne Elisabeth went and did? Can you guess?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0L3mO_-iR152_PxP-95pnDMKtDenIaUsav8TXLncMiHRj7cVVO-Ueeo3juawxU9HjAY0zoDeYA6yjtwC-07PXgtplvRTnOu_Ep2SptGxvHUuBuJQRguwxkFUx9lS7QmLGyjBEuCAVd7k/s1600/IMG_6361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0L3mO_-iR152_PxP-95pnDMKtDenIaUsav8TXLncMiHRj7cVVO-Ueeo3juawxU9HjAY0zoDeYA6yjtwC-07PXgtplvRTnOu_Ep2SptGxvHUuBuJQRguwxkFUx9lS7QmLGyjBEuCAVd7k/s400/IMG_6361.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She brought company along for the ride!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Um, <em>excuse</em> me, Anne Elisabeth? Are you <em>really, </em>after <em>everything I've put other people through all day</em>, going to inflict that <em>Thing</em> on me <em>now</em>?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKeKm8Id35YuD1AM8ONxKe1tUcQjlMt_1bD5HhtR7_3Cj5DCFeMXGd66yTJdIIAcuy-2ham_mcRBJi8yN35SCDDCm5LVpwXtf7Hwp7pMnzRtovm0zxhxAybaxH3PSJ29sGRlR0Rr8VxdU/s1600/IMG_6360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKeKm8Id35YuD1AM8ONxKe1tUcQjlMt_1bD5HhtR7_3Cj5DCFeMXGd66yTJdIIAcuy-2ham_mcRBJi8yN35SCDDCm5LVpwXtf7Hwp7pMnzRtovm0zxhxAybaxH3PSJ29sGRlR0Rr8VxdU/s400/IMG_6360.JPG" width="250" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"What the whiskers!"</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was really all too much. That <em>Thing</em> kept whining and wagging its wretched tail, barking its head off at anybody and everybody it saw. No sense of respect or proportion whatsoever, and not even thrilled to pieces to see me after a day's absence! Ghastly creature. I decided to hop in the back and teach it a lesson.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoidMu1_Z3lZjD_vEPIAdwy6Nn0TV4x6KSAgs-lc6WKziGUkoLZOBUbvod5sQqhWyOYQWd6K8XnH4vsmzkJWCB4ADuPCumNrCse02mBqGLzuJid5ZDMO7e0VSWgB9GmakClHKCTntw7Q/s1600/IMG_6362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="419" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoidMu1_Z3lZjD_vEPIAdwy6Nn0TV4x6KSAgs-lc6WKziGUkoLZOBUbvod5sQqhWyOYQWd6K8XnH4vsmzkJWCB4ADuPCumNrCse02mBqGLzuJid5ZDMO7e0VSWgB9GmakClHKCTntw7Q/s640/IMG_6362.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>All right, Thing, let me introduce you to my Phaser Eyes!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>And I think it fair to warn you, I'm not afraid to use them.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's amazing how a creature so big can be such a marshmallow inside . . .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Yprv3PfnxQQanwY3cHAzQMHnz9hrQ9xP58WWd-KUdk8LGMtO_xFbmskhxQPCVMd2I0P70Gely2oxnNWIyQ7El34xAyQ3UhnOd7BlLUrruhdPCyvynIZyRco8wPCCIrLzd20UYcroRiA/s1600/IMG_6363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Yprv3PfnxQQanwY3cHAzQMHnz9hrQ9xP58WWd-KUdk8LGMtO_xFbmskhxQPCVMd2I0P70Gely2oxnNWIyQ7El34xAyQ3UhnOd7BlLUrruhdPCyvynIZyRco8wPCCIrLzd20UYcroRiA/s400/IMG_6363.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Mom! Save me! The scary kitty is gonna phaser me!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tee hee! I have that beast so thoroughly cowed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimeeDmdjk1ENC8y3hOwaIusv4_UgAMfR09R-uLlhFor-_lqWfZMfNDE6eTQ8AiLCKRjklB1H2bAl-Jow7phXODBjk9sg7kiZwQiQwEuWtAtYncU2yy85cTLLZPNOx5cZgBnnKXeqmT2Dw/s1600/IMG_6365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimeeDmdjk1ENC8y3hOwaIusv4_UgAMfR09R-uLlhFor-_lqWfZMfNDE6eTQ8AiLCKRjklB1H2bAl-Jow7phXODBjk9sg7kiZwQiQwEuWtAtYncU2yy85cTLLZPNOx5cZgBnnKXeqmT2Dw/s400/IMG_6365.JPG" width="253" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There can be only one reigning despot in Rooglewood.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-5103333393898330652012-01-23T15:09:00.000-08:002012-01-23T15:09:36.801-08:00Stealth CatI am a creature of great stealth and guile. See?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQOB_zJ9L5zLOD3ffPjUCxL89ob7YZVMwvZcUWSQg9LAV-A1TIhG-ZAB74G5-jOtguhP5iAhAwG1RwizV6fmUSxOs3x9icham7cBh6X_TKZZad5MuiN7vrqCHh73kb48-o4XqJyQeETYk/s1600/IMG_3766.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQOB_zJ9L5zLOD3ffPjUCxL89ob7YZVMwvZcUWSQg9LAV-A1TIhG-ZAB74G5-jOtguhP5iAhAwG1RwizV6fmUSxOs3x9icham7cBh6X_TKZZad5MuiN7vrqCHh73kb48-o4XqJyQeETYk/s400/IMG_3766.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here I am stealthily and guilefully hidden in the foliage. Can you even see me there? Look <em>really</em> closely . . . Ha! Kind of jumps out at you, doesn't it?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Stealth runs in my family lineage. I know this because, since I was abandoned in a ditch when I was itty bitty, I get to pick what my family lineage was (this is how that works, you understand), and I decided that I come from a long line of jaguars, going all the way back to the darkest, most remotest jungles of the Amazon.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi28wRLUBgnnMU5DvJnTC7nRF9-OeocRxL_vPokgCDxYHMqWOb5EF8bcWDFK_FXHXwlT0XtBHTqB5QVcJZI1lcaAXNaKxucQ3c_ft_bikkr18y6IbA_9ifdrfcyllDMfBLI0HZoqGG4bH0/s1600/Jungle+Cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi28wRLUBgnnMU5DvJnTC7nRF9-OeocRxL_vPokgCDxYHMqWOb5EF8bcWDFK_FXHXwlT0XtBHTqB5QVcJZI1lcaAXNaKxucQ3c_ft_bikkr18y6IbA_9ifdrfcyllDMfBLI0HZoqGG4bH0/s400/Jungle+Cat.jpg" width="295" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There can be no doubt, can there? One look at me, and you see Jungle Cat written all over.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcidujMdry9DKODCWwqbQGMIggD0UKXIIcWmJEIJ254DCvf9DvEmk4vZEle8d4NRGYpfYme7_AtuktpCkabGbR4BmJ-bg2n9BKequrpYvOe6UhZrUS-JPNcrqzeguf6TVB5iCZU9vHVl0/s1600/Rawr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcidujMdry9DKODCWwqbQGMIggD0UKXIIcWmJEIJ254DCvf9DvEmk4vZEle8d4NRGYpfYme7_AtuktpCkabGbR4BmJ-bg2n9BKequrpYvOe6UhZrUS-JPNcrqzeguf6TVB5iCZU9vHVl0/s320/Rawr.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>"Rawr."</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Stealth comes in handy when one is aspiring for household domination and must deal with unruly humans on a daily basis. Specifically, <em>this </em>unruly human:</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbJI856apo_PewL99Gj9V0sn7hsrKleOa48g3Ee6dZVI5dFO-ChOZeCoXpdWItKXtd8mHc6y7xFADb0KneAn6shaBsWhPMTGVmVv8DZ0Ua3DRQ_6P_cjUJXLDccRl7qDmrjVHMyHJADk/s1600/IMG_3402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbJI856apo_PewL99Gj9V0sn7hsrKleOa48g3Ee6dZVI5dFO-ChOZeCoXpdWItKXtd8mHc6y7xFADb0KneAn6shaBsWhPMTGVmVv8DZ0Ua3DRQ_6P_cjUJXLDccRl7qDmrjVHMyHJADk/s320/IMG_3402.JPG" width="304" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's like she thinks I<em> like</em> her or something.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Obviously, she must be put in her place. And the other day, that's just where I put her.</div><br />
I had to be quite stealthy about it all. You see, Anne Elisabeth (for some reason) doesn't trust me as implicitly as she might. Sometimes, she'll catch me just<em> looking</em> at a vase of flowers from across the room, and she'll say, "MINERVA LOUISE!" in that special tone of voice that means me. It's a little unjust.<br />
<br />
I'll knock the vase over five minutes later just to show her.<br />
<br />
So the other evening, I watched from across the kitchen as Anne Elisabeth sat drinking tea as she always does when Rohan first comes home (This is how wretched she is: First, she chases Rohan out of the house<em> all</em> day then, as soon as he gets home, she puts him to work making tea! You see how it is? You see what I have to live with?). She was writing up a shopping list as she did so and talking to my sweetest-angel-face-of-love Rohan. She wrote with a green pen.<br />
<br />
<em>The</em> green pen.<br />
<br />
The beautiful, O! so beautiful green pen. Her favorite pen.<br />
<br />
I like her favorite pen a lot. Basically, I like any pen that she is using, but <em>especially</em> the green one. And she was writing with it and talking at Rohan, and I watched, and I had an idea.<br />
<br />
So I stealth-catted across the room. I did this by flicking my glorious plume of a tail and saying, "Meeew?" in the sweetest possible tones. Stealth, you see, can mean many things. Sometimes, it's hiding and sneaking. Sometimes, it's deflecting attention. I am an expert at all kinds of stealth.<br />
<br />
I rubbed around her ankles. "Meeeew? Meeeew?" I said again, blinking and batting my long lashes at her. Anne Elisabeth stopped writing. She put her teacup down and set aside <em>the</em> beautiful green pen. "Oh, what a sweetness you are!" she exclaimed as she reached down and petted me.<br />
<br />
It was going well. I decided to push it to the next level. I hopped in her lap, purr-purr-purring all the way.<br />
<br />
"My goodness!" Anne Elisabeth exclaimed, petting me and scratching under my chin. "Aren't we just a little luv-muffin? Are you seeing this Rohan? She never hops into my lap! Only yours!"<br />
<br />
After all, who <em>would</em> hop into Anne Elisabeth's lap when Rohan's is available? <br />
<br />
"I told you she's a good kitty," Rohan said. "You always say such wretched things about her, but she's such a sweetie!"<br />
<br />
Dear, sweet Rohan.<br />
<br />
I purred, I flicked my tail, I blinked. Anne Elisabeth petted, cooed, and exclaimed. And then, the moment was right.<br />
<br />
With dart of my paw, I snatched the green pen from the table, knocked it to the floor, and leaped after it, sending it rolling. Before Anne Elisabeth had the chance to even begin her ever-predictable, "MINERVA LOUISE!" I had batted that green pen across the kitchen and<em> underneath the dishwasher out of reach!</em><br />
<br />
Oh, yes. I am that good.<br />
<br />
Of course, Rohan, brow-beaten man that he is, got down on his hands and knees with a hanger to fetch it out again. But the point was well and truly made, so that wasn't so bad. And when Rohan, having finished catering to Anne Elisabeth's wretchedness, sat down at the table himself, I hopped into his lap and purred the purr of the victorious. He scratched me behind the ears the way I like and said, "Good kitty."<br />
<br />
I like him.<br />
<br />
So the struggle for Rooglewood Supremacy continues. But I believe I made a fine strike on the side of feline dictatorships everywhere! One day, all the pens will be mine . . .Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-34997791672417873492012-01-18T11:28:00.000-08:002012-01-18T11:29:04.769-08:00A Mighty HunterI am one. A mighty hunter, that is. I am quite lethal.<br />
<br />
I hunt Big Game mostly. Especially now that the Minion passed the 12 lb mark. He is my most constant prey, and he is very big, especially since I am only a little over 8 lbs. He fears me though. No, really! He does! I am little, but I am ferocious. You don't mess with Minerva the Terrible.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbAcieKCVNFjtarqD4L-0aTXt-GT74puaDT6RlHG5cneGxQeFpT_T3kca2uRhQK4UDnHu1IxkTiL4Usp9Xk6CuhnYTETfasPN19l5j-LXPh74lk7MAgjfx1fhrkxQLMb2e8fK72gnzAY/s1600/IMG_4452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbAcieKCVNFjtarqD4L-0aTXt-GT74puaDT6RlHG5cneGxQeFpT_T3kca2uRhQK4UDnHu1IxkTiL4Usp9Xk6CuhnYTETfasPN19l5j-LXPh74lk7MAgjfx1fhrkxQLMb2e8fK72gnzAY/s400/IMG_4452.JPG" width="318" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I particularly like to hunt Anne Elisabeth. We have a great Big Game that we play pretty often, and it gives me an opportunity to vent all my frustration at her wretchedness. She looks at me (this is usually in the evenings when Rohan is around to be entertained by my brutal ferocity) and her eyes get big, and she says, "I'm going to get your tail!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then she reaches out and (would you believe it?) she <em>grabs</em> my glorious tail.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And I say, "MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That's when I chase her. She runs around from the kitchen to the living room, yelping in terror as I pursue. At the very last, she leaps up onto the hearth stones and stands there trembling. I leap after her, catch her by the ankles and kill her.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Okay, well, I don't <em>really</em> kill her. Not that I couldn't, mind you! I am quite the bloodthirsty brute, you understand.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGoQitH1HzpNFcXTqjCBEMSpg5EV-vqA7lW06eH3fUY-2U4iuYAlzMyuRu5XFB7Q1DXPNVPz7euGrv8mNa_aygz9uAd3xrlwep7PjCyNBi_nXSgdUyEYjoN45lnnGmUQiEJOx4qNlVlw/s1600/IMG_4451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGoQitH1HzpNFcXTqjCBEMSpg5EV-vqA7lW06eH3fUY-2U4iuYAlzMyuRu5XFB7Q1DXPNVPz7euGrv8mNa_aygz9uAd3xrlwep7PjCyNBi_nXSgdUyEYjoN45lnnGmUQiEJOx4qNlVlw/s400/IMG_4451.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Evidence</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But, you know, if I actually did kill her, the Big Game would be over. So I let her live. For now at least. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And I will <em>not</em> let her get my tail!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The other day, we were all very excited because we had something really terrifying to hunt. Something monstrous. Behold!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3nTeufD9GToUdPPK4_uq232NyRNO6hT8fDqWkGAHHiuzGmwSnez4haMPZBOqdEKwcgieNnaL9uotxKveO418utQghlWPC4BqUnUiX_ZKmPRVaUuH_D3imrk8QXmk09llXIsUglvZInes/s1600/IMG_6349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3nTeufD9GToUdPPK4_uq232NyRNO6hT8fDqWkGAHHiuzGmwSnez4haMPZBOqdEKwcgieNnaL9uotxKveO418utQghlWPC4BqUnUiX_ZKmPRVaUuH_D3imrk8QXmk09llXIsUglvZInes/s400/IMG_6349.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Isn't it freaky?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I do enjoy a good Bug Battle. Marmaduke found it first and tried to eat it, of course, because that's his solution to everything (boys!). But the bug foiled his efforts by having much too strong an outer shell, and he was forced to drop it and let the rest of us have a go at it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP8PY3484y5rJs6E6SLUrv8sHv2RogApWdjlg2M5deZWMSb-VmoJnzSgxxsDUVfuEmdfADcs0LY0pk5Ud3PEaz-ZpWCMGNg9-0ASro5ARVLWNknHRKanDtb2qIugJ8ZYG4Dn8FqSqI-U/s1600/IMG_6352.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP8PY3484y5rJs6E6SLUrv8sHv2RogApWdjlg2M5deZWMSb-VmoJnzSgxxsDUVfuEmdfADcs0LY0pk5Ud3PEaz-ZpWCMGNg9-0ASro5ARVLWNknHRKanDtb2qIugJ8ZYG4Dn8FqSqI-U/s400/IMG_6352.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Marmaduke and the Minion were a little freaked out by it after Marmaduke failed to chew it. So I stepped in and saved the day! See?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0gvsrstc-UsnvbmUBHIIZ8c2K-xt1WGe1MsvcVZhBbY8zvjzL-mprHoKs_dYS_Szx_GSEybQwolTxVPriQxUlnYVWYS17MKG5wU8BwLtWnaCLYjBoiG31CaiyeSEC6s55-U51RzaBBiY/s1600/IMG_6351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0gvsrstc-UsnvbmUBHIIZ8c2K-xt1WGe1MsvcVZhBbY8zvjzL-mprHoKs_dYS_Szx_GSEybQwolTxVPriQxUlnYVWYS17MKG5wU8BwLtWnaCLYjBoiG31CaiyeSEC6s55-U51RzaBBiY/s400/IMG_6351.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I flipped it on its back!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It sat there flailing its legs for a nice long time, and Anne Elisabeth sat on the counter and went, "Eeeew! Eeeew! Eeeew!" She doesn't have the spirit of the Mighty Hunter, you see. Not like I have. No one has a hunter spirit like mine!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rohan told me what a good kitty I was, because he's darling like that. I blinked at him, and I really meant it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then Anne Elisabeth had to get all wretched and say, "Rohan, <em>please,</em> can you take it outside?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">She's so bossy!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But, Rohan did what she asked because he is still blind to her manipulative machinations. One day, I will reveal the truth to him, and then Rooglewood will finally succumb to my ultimate dominion!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In the meantime, whenever she tries to get my tail, I'll just have to chase her down and kill her (but, you know, not really).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Are you not amazed at my hunting skills?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div>Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-232746539265965456.post-8633374648304949022012-01-16T12:57:00.000-08:002012-01-16T12:59:41.324-08:00And Christmas is Stolen AwayWell, thank wickedness. Anne Elisabeth finally finished her <em>wretched</em> deadline! I was beginning to wonder if I would ever have an opportunity to write again. Every time I got anywhere near the computer, Anne Elisabeth was all, "No, Minerva Louise, Mommy needs to work now."<br />
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Proving how delusional she is. I mean, really. <em>Mommy?</em><br />
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Anyway, she's finished up that deadline and now spends her time frantically vacuuming up all clumps of fur I have graciously left around the house. She says that I shed in tumbleweeds and it's atrocious. I say she should talk. She and that <em>Thing </em>with all its shaggy coat. Not to mention the Minion. I am certainly <em>not</em> the only one who sheds in this house! Wretched Anne Elisabeth.<br />
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Speaking of wretched, do you know what she did? Do you? She STOLE CHRISTMAS!<br />
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She does it every year, and every year, I express my displeasure, and she does it anyway. She takes all those wonderful dangly ornaments off the Christmas tree, <em>forces</em> my darling Rohan to haul the tree outside, thereby ruining my very favorite of all time napping spots and bereaving life of all true comfort.<br />
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I tried to tell her. And when she piled up some wreaths and the bag with the Christmas table cloth and quilt on the cedar chest, I made it very plain that I did <em>not</em> want her to take them down to the basement.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizWygSH6lFVNOddRogGW8wRjJ_Df8qfzDr8GITIOkaUrdF1Qxi06mLH7j0Bjf0cfjToPZqv4GQ9NuJJHZToy9F-LnKjz-C5MR1bjtjtcRBWAx_zC0yP7GkGAUe-1j_TY9667NRpy0aS7I/s1600/IMG_6354.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizWygSH6lFVNOddRogGW8wRjJ_Df8qfzDr8GITIOkaUrdF1Qxi06mLH7j0Bjf0cfjToPZqv4GQ9NuJJHZToy9F-LnKjz-C5MR1bjtjtcRBWAx_zC0yP7GkGAUe-1j_TY9667NRpy0aS7I/s400/IMG_6354.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>I mean, how much plainer can a resident dictator be? Wherever Christmas is, that's my favorite napping spot! Is this difficult to understand?<br />
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Apparently. She took it all away. And she seems to think she did right.<br />
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Oh, well. I have satisfaction in knowing at least that Rohan was on <em>my</em> side. It was he, in fact, who insisted they keep everything up until January 6th. Maybe next year he'll get her to keep it even longer. We'll see . . .<br />
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Still, one does start to wonder who's boss around here.<br />
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I hope, faithful readers, to enthrall you all with my writerly wit more often in the near future. In the meanwhile, purrs!Minerva Louisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10190251494695399106noreply@blogger.com1